a/n: here's the second chapter of this thing
god bless babynamewizard
Natsuki: hey
Natsuki: president ribbons is pretty much tearing her hair out with stress over this whole first-year business, any chance you've got some genius plan up your sleeve?
Kumiko rubbed the sleep from her eyes as her phone screen lit up the room.
It's two in the morning, what does she want?
Natsuki: and i mean
Natsuki: don't tell her i said this, but i'm kinda worried too
Natsuki: i care about you nerds
Natsuki: i don't want to make it onto the a-team this year just because there's nobody else
Natsuki: this is my last year of high school, believe it or not
Natsuki: i'm not gonna waste it
Kumiko blankly stared at the screen before replying, curling into herself underneath the bedsheets.
Kumiko: i'll see what i can do
Kumiko awoke the next morning with the thoughts of her conversation with Natsuki still at the forefront of her mind. She wondered briefly if it was a dream, but her phone's near-dead battery told her otherwise.
Natsuki's exhausted state that afternoon also told her otherwise, as things turned out.
"What happened to you?!" Hazuki less-than-tastefully yelped when Natsuki slunk into the band room with two cups of coffee in her hands.
"I pulled an all-nighter at Yuu- erm, the prez's house." Kumiko blinked.
"W-wait, so when you said that she was freaking out, you meant she was actually . . . there? With you?"
"Affirmative," Yuuko grunted from the conductor's stand, wearing an equally groggy expression on her face. "Sometimes you need to sacrifice your dignity for the good of the band." The first-year boy - still the only new student to have joined the club - timidly stared at the two leaders as he tapped at a drum.
"So, that's the goal of today before we get into practice." Natsuki clapped her hands together, a feat made incredibly difficult by the coffee cups she was still holding. "We're filling up these ranks, we'll make Kitauji High School's concert band even stronger than it was."
"I can agree with you on that," Yuuko said, standing beside her. "Now, what was it that Ogasawara-senpai used to say before every big event?"
"Kitauji, fighto!" The entire room turned to stare at Reina, who had pumped her fist in the air rather suddenly. Kumiko held her breath to keep herself from laughing as Reina turned away with a huff.
It was decided, after a good half hour of debates, that the best way to spread knowledge of the band was to hang flyers in the school's hallways. Midori had stayed behind to continue drawing more, and Kumiko was left to hanging duty alongside Gotou.
"So, uh, how's senior year going for you?" she asked, stapling a flyer to a board already filled with advertisements for other clubs.
"It's fine," Gotou grunted. "I don't know how else to describe it."
"Do you know what colleges you're applying to?" Kumiko nearly stapled her fingers together as she walked down the hallway.
"Not yet."
Not much for conversation, huh?
"I'm just trying to make it through this year and enjoy the time I have left with Riko."
"Ah, right. It's official, then?"
"I never had you as the nosy type, Oumae."
"I'm n-not!" Kumiko squeaked. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"It's fine. You're no stranger to these sorts of feelings, it's not as if I'm the only one who . . . cares deeply for someone." Kumiko gulped.
"Uh, w-what do you mean?"
"I've seen the way you've looked at Kousaka. It isn't an unfamiliar thing. It's nothing to fear, either." Gotou looked down at her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks?"
"Don't mention it." Gotou slapped another flyer to the wall, and Kumiko could've sworn she saw him smile for half a second before turning back to his usual default expression. "We need to get to the rest of the flyers. They'll all be expecting us back."
The flyers worked quicker than expected.
"Hey! Hey! This is the room, right?" Yuuko and Natsuki both scrambled for the door, elbowing each other out of the way all the while. Three first-year girls stood in the doorway. The tallest one - the ringleader, it seemed, from the way that the other two stood a bit behind her - held one of the pieces of paper in her arms eagerly, eyes shining.
"We've always loved music!" one of the girls chirped, smoothing out her skirt.
"We had no idea a place like Kitauji would have a concert band!" the second squeaked, clinging to the first girl's shoulder.
"Is it true that you made it to the Nationals last year?" the ringleader asked.
"You want to join?" Yuuko asked incredulously.
"Of course, silly!" the ringleader sighed. The girl who had been holding onto her friend's shoulder shot her a glare.
"Yui!" she hissed. "You can't just talk to her like that! What if she doesn't let us in?"
"Do you three have signup sheets?" Natsuki flippantly asked. "I can grab some from the office if ya don't." The girl who had snapped at the ringleader - Yui, apparently - produced the three papers with a smug grin.
"They're all filled out and ready," she said. Kumiko couldn't help but think that her smile was a bit too big for her face. "When do we get our instruments?"
"If we get enough kids? Tomorrow. We're waiting until we've got pretty much everyone ready before that all starts," Natsuki explained. Yuuko filed away the signup sheets, muttering about 'overexcited underclassmen' as she did so. "It's kind of a pain in the ass to drag everything out here, so it's best to wait."
"Oh, I get it!" the third girl said. "Momoko here knows which one she's gonna play already, don't you, Momo?" The girl in question nodded.
"I've dreamed of playing the euphonium ever since I was little," she murmured. Kumiko's mouth dropped open. "I've never seen a real one up close, though."
"I'm a euphonist," Natsuki said. "I could give ya some tips if you need." Momo stared at her in disbelief.
"There's already a euphonist in the band?" she whispered.
"Two, actually."
"They're both annoying, too!" Yuuko yelled from the other end of the room.
"Ignore her. Kumiko? There's someone who could, ahem, use your expertise."
"I'm r-really not that great," Kumiko mumbled. "I can't give you advice." Momo blinked.
"Okay." She skipped right past Kumiko to badger Natsuki with questions, eyes wide. Reina sidled over to where Kumiko was standing, lips curled upwards in a smile.
"It seems like someone's found an idol," she whispered.
"I have no idea what just happened," Kumiko muttered. "I think it's something good, though."
More of the younger students streamed in after that, and soon the room was filled with red scarves along with the blues and the greens. Natsuki and Yuuko managed, somewhat dysfunctionally, to show them around, and Kumiko found it impossible to not see a tiny bit of herself in every single one of them.
"We'll win Nationals for sure this year," she said to Reina, holding her hand nonchalantly. Those moments of strangely casual intimacy in plain sight never failed to surprise her, and yet she found herself initiating them more and more. She'd become bolder, she realized soon enough, and it was a thought that both thrilled and terrified her. Reina didn't seem to take much notice of the subtle change, all activity dedicated to her trumpet and to the importance of winning this year. Taki was, according to a schedule not-so-masterfully stolen from the office by Midori, returning to the school the following Tuesday. It was Thursday, presently, and the lack of time before the beloved teacher returned was enough to send half the students into a tizzy while the first-years looked on in confusion.
"What's Taki-sensei like?" Kumiko was snapped out of her thoughts by Momo standing rather uncomfortably close, staring up at her with an inquisitive expression. "I'd ask the vice president - she's so cool - but she's busy dealing with the paperwork. So, what's he like? He must be amazing." Kumiko glanced at Reina, who was practically turning green as she struggled to form a response.
"Taki-sensei's incredible," she said, voice clipped and forced as if the words were being dragged from her mouth. "He knows just what to do whenever the band is stuck, and we wouldn't be anything without him."
"He's good-looking, too!" one of the third-years yelled across the room.
"Yeah. Sure. That, too." Kumiko, thankfully, hadn't been asked much about her sudden outburst the previous day, but she still felt her skin crawl whenever someone asked her what she thought of the teacher - an occurrence that happened more often than she'd have liked.
"I can't wait to meet him," Momo dreamily sighed.
"Looks like you've got some competition, Kousaka," Yuuko teased, elbowing Reina as she tucked a stack of signup sheets under her arm.
"Shut up," Reina muttered, smacking the papers to the floor with the nonchalance of a cat knocking a glass off a table.
Reina had stayed behind with Natsuki and Yuuko in order to help start setting up for tomorrow's instrument choosing, and so Kumiko was left to take the train home with Hazuki.
"So, what's it like? Being, you know . . . a gay." Kumiko stared at her blankly.
"It's . . . like anything else? I like girls, it's really not something you need to keep bringing up."
"Do you have a secret handshake? Some kind of code for the others to find you?" Kumiko chuckled.
"Hah, I wish. Nope, you j-just have to . . . hope, I guess." She paused for a moment. "You still haven't told anyone, right?" Hazuki mimicked crossing her heart, her expression solemn.
"I would never," she whispered. "After all, it's not every day that someone entrusts me with such a huge, life-changing secret."
"I don't get why it's such a huge deal for you. I mean, other people know. Reina, Natsuki, Asuka, I've mentioned it to them before. It's just something I'd prefer to keep under wraps for the time being." Kumiko folded her knees into her chest, looking up at the poster of a cheerful twenty-something couple on the wall of the train that rattled on the tracks. "You know how things are."
"I really don't." Kumiko had deemed Hazuki more or less a lost cause by the time the other girl's stop had come up, and so she was surprised when she patted her on the shoulder and whispered "good luck with Kousaka-san, then" as she stepped off.
Numbers swam in front of Kumiko's eyes on the paper as she tapped the mechanical pencil against her forehead in frustration.
"Kumiko! Mail!" Her mother's voice rang across the house.
"I'm coming," she groaned, rolling off her bed and leaving the math homework behind.
"There's something here for you, it's a pretty big package. Did you order something online?" Kumiko shook her head as she stepped into the hallway, picking up the haphazardly wrapped blue box curiously.
"I'll check it out!" she said, ducking back into her room. She tore open the wrapping, revealing a worn-looking cardboard box held together mostly by duct tape. Opening it, Kumiko saw a mass of tissue paper sitting inside of the box. A letter floated out when she tossed out the tissue paper, and she read it before even looking at the present.
To whom it may concern-
Ah, youth. Isn't it a crazy thing? It's always an unsure time, the beginning of a new school year, filled with twists and turns of every kind. It's not fun. It's not exciting. It's just something you have to drag yourself through. It's kind of hell, really. But what do I know? I'm just a fairy godmother of sorts, trying to help out when I can. You'll find something soft to hold onto during those tough nights in here, assuming it hasn't been stolen by postal services. Don't try to send a letter back to me, and expect more of these.
~a kindred being
Kumiko set the letter aside to see a kitten plushie in pristine condition, lying down in the box.
"Huh." This must be some kind of practical joke. Or maybe it was meant to go to some other Kumiko Oumae? Kumiko picked up the stuffed kitten and idly stroked it on the head. I guess there're worse pranks than this.
She fell asleep with the kitten in her arms that night.
"That really is strange," Reina remarked the following morning on the train after Kumiko had finished recounting the strange box. "They said that there would be 'more of these?' It sounds a bit suspicious, if you want the truth. I wouldn't trust it." Kumiko shrugged.
"It's a stuffed cat in a box. I don't really think there's anything bad about it."
"You say that now, but the next one could be something entirely different and much worse, like a sex toy or a bomb."
"My mysterious mail-caretaker isn't going to send me a bomb, Reina."
"Not yet, they won't." Reina paused for a moment, peeling at a scrap of faux leather on the train seat that had started to fall off. "Anyway, what do you think of the new students?"
"They're . . . nice, I guess? I like them. I dunno how good they'll be at actually playing the instruments, though." Kumiko nervously fiddled with the keychains on her bag. "Not to mention the fact that Taki's been so hyped up by everyone that they'll probably be disappointed when they find out he's not a god."
"Who's to say he isn't?" Kumiko froze, her fingers hovering over Tuba-kun's tiny valves.
"Reina?"
"Yes?"
"Why do you . . . why do you keep bringing him up?" Reina looked to her curiously, violet eyes narrowed. "Why do you act like he's absolutely incredible?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't really know, to be honest." Kumiko smiled crookedly, her chest squeezing up. "J-just . . . he's twice your age, Reina. I'll support you no matter what, but he just wouldn't do that. Besides, you got closure last fall. He knows you admire him, we all do."
"It's deeper than admiration," Reina insisted. "It's love."
"How do you know that, though? We're kids, Reina, what do we . . . what do we know about love? It might not really be anything at all."
"How can you say that?!" Reina snapped, her hands curling into pale fists, knuckles flashing white bone underneath. "Don't you think I've considered that? I'd like to forget all about this, I would." The train wailed to a stop, and Kumiko stood up first, offering Reina her shaky hand. "I just can't," she said, her voice quiet.
Kumiko didn't bring it up for the rest of the day.
The argument - if it could even be called that - still rang in Kumiko's thoughts as she entered the classroom. Hazuki proudly beamed when she saw her friend, hoisting up a rainbow backpack as she sat down.
"Subtle," Kumiko said dryly.
"I bought it to support you!" Hazuki chirped.
"Thanks."
"So, how are things going with Kousaka-san?" Midori leaned over so far that Kumiko thought it a wonder she didn't tip the desk.
"Who gave you the idea that I like her?" Kumiko lied, pulling her crumpled, half-finished math homework from her bag to hide her face. She'd always been a terrible liar.
"It was obvious, really," Hazuki sighed. "Always going to everything together, dedicating things to each other - I really did think it was just something regular friends just did. I thought you two were like, the definition of 'best friends forever.' I sure was off the mark, huh?"
"You were."
"You're dodging Hazuki-chan's question!" Midori squeaked, waggling an accusing finger in Kumiko's face. "How are things with her? Have you . . . told her?"
"There's nothing to tell her." Kumiko straightened her papers as the teacher walked into the classroom. "She likes someone else, anyway."
"The first-years don't know that the band meets right after school, do they?" Natsuki sighed, watching the near-empty club room. "Figures."
"It wasn't my job to spread the word!" Yuuko snapped.
"You're the president. Everything goes to ya by default, you have to assume that nothing's done if you don't check it over first."
"Why couldn't you have been like Asuka-senpai and run everything from behind the scenes?" Yuuko groaned. "None of the kids are going to get here in time, and they'll get the last pick of instruments."
"Last pick of the . . . oh, shit."
"What?"
"The school only has two euphoniums. Asuka's was her own."
"Yeah, so?"
"Remember that girl dead-set on playing one? She'll be heartbroken, and then she'll leave the club and take her two friends with her."
"You're right . . . give me your phone."
"What?" Yuuko flicked her ribbon irritably.
"Mine's dead. I need your phone."
"Fine." Natsuki dug through her pocket, fishing out the phone with indecipherable mutters of words that would've probably gotten her kicked out of the school if anyone outside of the band room heard her. "Here." Yuuko snatched it and started to tap away, hyperfocused on the loading wheel.
"The school wifi is terrible," she muttered. "Oh, here it is!"
"What're you even-"
"Done!"
"What the hell did you do with my phone, Prez?"
"Don't call me that." Yuuko handed Natsuki her phone back. "And what I did, Nakagawa, was save the band." She paused guiltily for a moment. "I ordered a euph online."
"You did what?!"
"What, did you lose your hearing, too?"
"Do ya know how expensive those things are?! I'm a high school student with hardly enough money to keep paying tuition, I can't just buy a euphonium!" Natsuki flung her arms in the air, exasperated.
"Geez, did you think I'd force you to pay for it? I'm not cruel, Natsuki." Yuuko's voice softened on the second sentence. "We'll cut back on decorations for the next party and slip it into the club budget."
"Oh." Natsuki jammed her hands in her pockets, her cheeks beginning to turn a rather bright shade of pink. "Thanks, I guess."
"Don't mention it."
Kumiko tentatively stepped into the room with her hands clasped together, unsure of what to make of everything she'd just heard.
"I could, uh, h-help set everything up," she said, scuffing the floor with her shoes.
"That'd be appreciated," Gotou grunted. "Those two have been arguing for the past twenty minutes, it's just been Riko, myself, and Chikao over there." The boy in question quietly waved. "We still need to take the drums up."
"I'll help!" Riko offered.
"Oi, not so fast," Natsuki stopped her with a hand. "You're essential to keeping everything in line here, I'll go down to get the drums with Oumae. I'll go nuts if I don't get out of here for a few minutes. Try not to set the place on fire while I'm gone, Prez."
"Got it."
"They really are such good friends," Riko sighed as Natsuki strutted out the door with Kumiko in tow.
"Is it hard?" Kumiko asked once the two of them were out of earshot. "Being the vice president?"
"Of course it is. It wouldn't be a job if it wasn't." Natsuki looked up at the ceiling, running a hand through her hair. "It's worth it, though. I couldn't do anything last year, but now I'm pretty much co-running the club." A clap of thunder sounded outside, and Kumiko realized that it had started to rain. "I like it, and the cute girls asking me in the hall about it don't hurt either, heh." Kumiko chuckled.
"I'm sure."
"Speaking of which, I heard about that little stunt ya pulled in homeroom the other day. That was . . . bold, I guess. Kinda stupid, but bold."
"It wasn't a 'stunt.' I just got tired of Hazuki and Midori assuming things and so I just . . ."
"Snapped?"
"Yeah." Kumiko pushed open the door to the storage room, taking the drums from their position on the shelves.
"You're braver than I was."
"Really?" Kumiko let out a yelp as one of the drums wobbled in her arms. "I, Kumiko Oumae, the kid who accidentally came out to her friends because of a bad mood, I'm braver than you, the one with the rainbow pin on her bag? The one who's never apologized for anything? You're kind of a badass, Natsuki." Natsuki smirked.
"Glad to hear it."
"It's the truth. You act like you can do anything, even when things don't . . . work out, for you."
"That's what I do." Natsuki shrugged nonchalantly, helping Kumiko heft up the drum. "It's how I manage."
"Right."
"Anyway, that's enough emotional conversation for one day. Let's get back up there, we'll be taking trips back and forth all night if we keep going at this rate."
The older members of the band had just barely managed to bring all of the instruments into the room when the first-years started to hurry in.
"We're not late, are we?" Yui asked between heavy breaths, Momo and the third girl (whose name Kumiko had yet to learn) on her heels.
"You are, actually," Yuuko said flippantly. "Practice meets directly after school."
"I told you that there wasn't an hour between the end of classes and the start of club!" Momo hissed.
"It's fine, don't worry about it!" Kumiko hurriedly got between the group of girls and Yuuko, wiping away the sweat on her brow. "Just don't do it again, okay? We're picking instruments today, you've cut down on our time pretty badly. C'mon, this'll probably be the highlight of your year."
"Was it yours, Oumae-senpai?" Momo inquired. Kumiko remembered her awkward induction into the brass section with a wince.
"Not really."
"There isn't enough time for this!" Hazuki blurted out, looking up from where she'd stacked sheet music.
"This is an important time for them, you can't take it lightly!" Midori squeaked in agreement. Yuuko walked to the front of the room, clapping to gain everyone's attention.
"Now, everyone, I'm sure that you know what we're about to do. The section leaders, or the oldest student playing their instrument, will provide a brief - emphasis on brief, euphonium, we don't want a continuation of last year - explanation of their instrument." Yuuko paused to retrieve her trumpet. "The trumpet is fairly well-known, even outside of music circles, and it's . . ."
"The drums are great stress relief, as our dear departed Knuckle-senpai told me once . . ."
"The clarinet can be incredibly beautiful, if you play it right . . ."
"I can't do it," Midori whispered to Kumiko, holding the paper with notes on the contrabass on it in trembling fingers. "How can I tell them what music truly is?"
"You have to, Midori-chan!" Hazuki whispered back. "You're the only contrabass in the band, wouldn't you want a pupil?"
"Contrabass?" Yuuko called. "Contrabass, you're up next."
"I can't do it justice. I'm getting stage fright, I think I'm gonna throw up."
"Contrabass, we don't have all day."
"Go!" Hazuki all but shoved Midori to the front of the room.
"Uh, t-the contrabass is this wonderful instrument that's . . . uh . . ." Midori imitated the playing of the instrument.
"A saw?" one of the first-years piped up from the back.
"No!" Midori squeaked. "It's like a giant violin!" She cleared her throat, looking down at the paper. "It's too big for me to bring it all the way here, but I do hope you consider it!"
"Three cheers for the big-ass violin!" another first-year - or maybe the same one, Kumiko couldn't tell - yelled from the back. A few of the others took up the chant, and Midori smiled as she scurried back into her chair.
"That . . . actually went pretty well," she whispered. Hazuki grinned.
"What'd I tell you?"
"Hazuki-chan, you didn't really tell her anything," Kumiko said.
"I encouraged her!"
"So, that's it for the intros," Yuuko concluded. "We've only got a little while before the school kicks us out, so hurry up with your choices." The students dispersed, chatting amongst themselves, and Kumiko stationed herself near the brass. Momo was the first to show up, unsurprisingly, eyeing the euphonium like it'd sprout legs and run away if she even blinked.
"I guess I don't have to scout you, huh?" Kumiko chuckled, remembering Asuka once again. "You'll have to wait a few days for one, though. We can't exactly spend money on priority mail, y'know."
"I don't mind," Momo said. "I'll wait as long as I need to. Can I try it out?"
"Go ahead." Natsuki stood beside Kumiko, putting a hand on her shoulder. Momo instantly stiffened, inching closer to the older girl. "She's awfully eager, isn't she?" Momo nodded excitedly.
"I used to listen to Shindo-san's music every night before I went to sleep, it was like a lullaby to me when I was a little kid." Kumiko drew her lips into a tight line, several thoughts feeling like they'd stab her in the brain if she kept thinking them for more than a few seconds. "You've heard of him, I'm sure."
"His daughter used to go here!" she blurted out, promptly clapping her hand over her mouth as soon as she realized she'd spoken.
"She did?" Natsuki and Momo asked, in unison.
"Yep," Kumiko said stiffly. "Yep, she went here. I read about it. Online. The article's gone now, though. I never knew her." That, at least, was part of the truth. She'd never known Asuka, not really - the older girl had been as elusive as she was at the very beginning, and Kumiko doubted that she ever would know her. Asuka was a mystery nobody had wanted to unravel, and yet Kumiko knew more of her than most of her close friends had, and yet when she tried to remember her all that came up was a jumble of heroism and innuendos. "She sounded pretty amazing, though."
"Well, I think that went really well!" Hazuki cheerfully bounced beside Kumiko and Reina, who still hadn't talked beyond idle chatter since the morning. "We'll have some more members to our section, and I'll get to practice with all of you guys again! Team Monaka's great, but I've missed Riko-senpai and the smell of that classroom."
"I wonder if Taki-sensei's going to be any different," Midori mused. Reina flinched. "He's going to be even tougher on us now that he knows what we can do."
"I'm ready for it!" Hazuki cheered. "I'm gonna make it onto the A-team this year, and we'll win gold at Nationals!"
"You're incredibly optimistic." Reina walked a few paces ahead, her expression carefully neutral. Kumiko could see how fake it was from a mile away. "I hope you really do expect it, and put everything you have into that goal. Otherwise, there's no point." Midori gaped.
"You sounded just like him."
"Like who?"
"Taki-sensei. You knew him when you were little, right?" Reina nodded, clearly uncomfortable. "You must've picked up on some of his habits, everyone does it when they're around people for a while."
"Yeah, Kumiko gestures just like Asuka-senpai sometimes!"
"I do?"
"Yeah, you do," Hazuki confirmed. "I'm surprised you didn't notice it yourself, it's pretty obvious." The rain from earlier had subsided, leaving the sidewalks gray and the flowers damp. "I guess most people don't notice their own quirks, though."
"We have to hurry if we want to make it to the next train," Reina said, cutting into the conversation. "It won't wait forever."
Hazuki and Midori had since left for their own homes, and Kumiko was left to sit in awkward silence with Reina.
"So, uh, the new kids are looking pretty good," she said. "I think we might have a real shot at winning this year."
"Are you saying we didn't last year?" Kumiko didn't say anything. "There are a few new members of the trumpet section, they have potential. What about brass?"
"There's the one girl who really into the euph. She's pretty much head-over-heels for Natsuki, it's actually kind of adorable."
"You aren't worried that she'll steal your spot when the competitions begin?"
"Of course I am." Kumiko hadn't thought about it much before that, but any conversation with Reina was a distraction from the wailing of the train, the silence that always formed between the two of them. "It just means I have to try harder than before and improve, right? I can become special, like you."
"It might not be enough." There was something strikingly beautiful about Reina in that moment, the artificial lighting seeming to fade away as she turned to face the window, the setting sun casting some sort of glow onto her face.
"If we're being honest, Reina, I don't think it ever will be."
The weekend passed by in a blur, a whirlwind of homework and "getting back into the groove of things," as Kumiko's mother put it. It was a lazy Sunday morning when her phone beeped with a string of messages.
Hazuki: can you believe well see taki-sensei in two days?
Hazuki: itll be weird seeing him again
Kumiko: you have no idea
Hazuki: anyway
Hazuki: any updates on you and kousaka-san?
Hazuki: ;)
Kumiko: please don't ever do that again
Hazuki: do what
Hazuki: ;)
Kumiko: please
Hazuki: ;)
Hazuki: really though!
Hazuki: this is like the best news ive heard in months!
Kumiko: ...the fact that i'm gay?
Hazuki: it means im free to pursue shuichi
Kumiko: you could've done that before
Hazuki: not when i thought you were head-over-heels for him!
Kumiko: what made you think that?
Hazuki: oh, you know
Hazuki: youre a girl, hes a boy, you two knew each other when you were little kids
Hazuki: who was i to get in the way of that?
Hazuki: but it turns out you dont even like boys at all somehow
Kumiko: thanks?
Kumiko: i really don't know if this is supposed to be a compliment or an insult
Kumiko: but good luck anyway
Kumiko: unrequited crushes are the /worst/
Kumiko: i hope it works out between you two
Kumiko shut down her phone with a sigh.
Hazuki's taking everything better than I'd have expected her to, not that that's saying much. Reina won't engage in anything more than small talk. I'm already in my second year of high school and I still don't know what I'm supposed to do. She tucked herself back into her bed, curling up in the fetal position. I shouldn't already be this tired.
"Alright, everyone, listen up." Yuuko had grown into her position as president fairly quickly, taking on a rather commanding presence every time she stepped to the front of the room. It was nothing like Haruka's timid speeches, her quiet encouragement, but it worked just as well. "Our advisor is going to arrive tomorrow, so we'll have to be prepared. There won't be any slacking off, alright? We're gonna carry out the alumni's wishes, we're winning gold at Nationals. If you're lazy and just came here for fun, I'm sorry."
"There's no place for that here anymore," Natsuki added.
"Wasn't your nickname 'lazy euph' last year?" Yuuko retorted. Natsuki shrugged, flashing Yuuko a smug grin.
"People change," she said. "I mean, who'd have though that you'd actually be a competent leader?"
"Shut up," Yuuko huffed. "Anyway, the advisor's coming tomorrow. Don't expect this to be easy. You'll bleed and sweat and probably cry, you might not even make it to the competition and end up on the B-"
"Team Monaka," Natsuki interjected. "That's what it's called now." Yuuko shot her a glare.
"Sure, that. You might not be able to perform in front of a crowd, but you've got to work your very hardest anyway. We're winning this, alright? We're winning."
"Should I do it, or should you?" Natsuki asked.
"Do what?" Natsuki punched her fist in the air. "Oh, that. It was usually Ogasawara-senpai who did that, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, I guess it falls to me." Yuuko gripped the conductor's stand with one hand, eyes blazing with determination. "Kitauji, fighto!"
The room of sixty-odd students waited in rapt attention the next day as the door slid open and a well-dressed man in his early thirties stepped inside.
"I suppose it's time for us to begin."
a/n: hazuki tries ok. she tries.