a/n: alternate chapter title: midori loses her cat, natsuki loses her chill, and kumiko loses some sleep due to vague foreshadowing nightmares

Kumiko was vaguely aware of Natsuki clambering into bed late that night, slumped over from exhaustion. She pretended to stay asleep, however, knowing that Natsuki's shadowy form entering the room and climbing under her covers would become cloaked in that strange dream-mist by morning.

Natsuki was already perched on her chair when Kumiko entered the kitchen that morning, seeming almost protective of the chair.

"Yo," she grunted. "Did ya sleep well last night?" Kumiko shrugged, packing her bag.

"I woke up in the middle of the night." Natsuki stiffened. "You were walking around and climbed back in bed. I didn't say anything. You seemed kinda troubled." Natsuki clenched her fist.

"Well, I got to meet umbrella girl, at least. I don't know what her deal is, but I can tell what you see in her. She's mysterious, the textbook manic pixie dream girl ya spend every second of your time thinking about. Ya see her dancing around in a white dress, don't you? Ya wanna hold her, kiss her, learn everything there is to know about her. She's an enigma, an otherworldly spirit tantalizingly close to your reach." Kumiko's hand tightened around her bag's strap. "I'm not wrong, am I?"

"You're not wrong," Kumiko muttered, ready to leave. "Well, I'm off. I'll see you later, I guess."

"I've got a date today, by the way," Natsuki added. "We're going to the park. It's gonna be really cliche, with the two of us having a picnic under a tree and stuff. She's cute, though. I'll dunno how long it'll last, so I'll see ya whenever."

"Good luck on the date, then," Kumiko called, heading out the door.

Midori was pacing behind the counter when Kumiko arrived, concern evident on her face as she walked back and forth through the small space.

"What's up with her?" Kumiko whispered.

"I think-"

"Tuba-kun's gone missing!" Midori stopped Hazuki before she could finish.

"Your cat?" Kumiko asked. Midori nodded.

"Yeah. See, I was going outside for a few minutes, and I left the door open because I figured that the house could use some fresh air, but by the time I got back inside, Tuba-kun was gone!"

"I'll help you make posters," Hazuki offered.

"You can draw, right?" Midori inquired. "I'll tell you what Tuba-kun looks like, and we can put them up all over town, and then anyone who's seen a cat who looks like Tuba-kun can tell us where we might be able to go."

"Sounds great!" Hazuki chirped.

"I'm worried, though." Midori looked out the window as if she was searching for the cat from where she stood. "Tuba-kun's never been outside before. What if there's a bunch of dogs nearby, or a car, or a gang of evil alley cats?"

"There's not going to be a gang of evil alley cats," Kumiko deadpanned. "Tuba-kun's going to be fine."

"You really think so?" Kumiko looked down at the smaller girl and nodded.

"Yeah."

Kumiko thought back to what Natsuki had said in the apartment that morning as Hazuki and Midori plotted out ideas for the lost cat posters while serving drinks.

"Ya see her dancing around in a white dress, don't you? Ya wanna hold her, kiss her, learn everything there is to know about her."

Natsuki's words weren't all just talk - Kumiko knew that she had been there before, knew that there was more to what she was saying than some misplaced bitterness. It didn't change the fact that she was completely right. Kumiko thought about Reina nearly every second nowadays, the way she talked, the way she moved, every single little part of her was something Kumiko wanted more than anything. It had been about two months since they had met, but it felt so much longer, almost as if she had known Reina her whole life. She had stopped putting Reina into neat little boxes in her brain, pretending that she was nothing special. She was something important, even if Natsuki insisted otherwise. Kumiko mentally slapped herself for thinking such sappy thoughts. Just then, the bell chimed, signaling yet another customer. Speak of the devil. Reina stood in the doorway, entering the coffeeshop with her usual grace.

"It was nice to see your apartment," she said once she reached the counter, shoving aside a few loose sheets of paper in her bag - notes, no doubt - to find the bills. "Your roommate seemed . . . nice." Kumiko couldn't help but notice the pause, wondering what had transpired while she slept. She scribbled talk to Natsuki in the notebook before going back to making the coffee.

"So, uh, what do you think about that festival?" Kumiko asked, redirecting the conversation away from Natsuki. She had become uncomfortably good at that lately - driving conversations through bumpy roads before suddenly veering off onto a smoother path, afraid of what could lie ahead if she stayed on that trail. Geez, when did I start sounding all philosophical in my own head? Natsuki would have a field day with me if she heard half of this stuff. Reina tugged at her ponytail thoughtfully.

"I've seen some posters advertising it on that bulletin board over there." She pointed at the large board hanging in a corner of the coffeeshop, covered in various ads ranging from yoga lessons to upcoming parades. Natsuki had posted her phone number on that board once, with the words single lesbian just looking to have a good time scrawled under it. Nobody had called. Natsuki glared at the board every time she visited Euphonium's after that incident.

"Ooh, we could hang the posters for Tuba-kun on there!" Midori piped up. "Thanks, Miss . . . uh . . ."

"Kousaka."

"Thanks, Miss Kousaka!" Midori bounded over to Hazuki to tell her about the idea.

"Well, anyway," Kumiko mumbled. "I was, uh, I was wondering if maybe you'd, er, maybe you'd want to go, maybe? T-together, I mean." Reina slid her hand closer as Kumiko finished preparing the coffee.

"I'll have to check my schedule," she decided after a moment of deliberation. Kumiko blinked. She hadn't been expecting an answer.

"I'll invite Shuichi, too!" Hazuki chirped. Kumiko sighed.

"Here's the order," she mumbled, holding out the mocha. Reina smiled, sniffing the drink. "I'll, uh, I'll text you the details about the festival later."

"I'll be waiting for it," Reina called over her shoulder as she left the coffeeshop.

What's that supposed to mean? Kumiko thought, watching the way Reina walked with such an air of diligence and beauty until she turned the corner and disappeared from view. Is she secretly excited? Does she not trust me to actually send her the details? Is this flirting? The familiar sound of the trumpet wafted through the air. Kumiko smiled before resuming her work.

The days were getting colder and colder, Kumiko noticed, as the wind howled and the trees shook, any stubbornly remaining leaves close to being blown to the ground. The barista shoved her hands into her pockets and thought of Reina's warm, glove-clad hands. She quickly pulled out the notebook and scribbled buy cheap gloves before putting her hands back into the comfort of the warm pockets.

"Man, it's cold outside," Kumiko grumbled as soon as she entered the apartment, pressing her body against the radiator.

"I figured." Natsuki was sitting in her regular chair, flipping through a newspaper. "Ya look like an awkward gay icicle." Kumiko managed to peel herself away from the radiator and sat in her chair.

"So, uh, how was the date?" she asked.

"Well, it seemed like she might've actually been a keeper this time," Natsuki began. "Emphasis on might."

"What happened?"

"She asked me what I did for work. I told her the truth, obviously - there's no point in making up some convoluted story about having an actual job when I've seen enough teen sitcom movies to know that stuff usually blows up in your face. And, well, she didn't take to that idea too kindly." Natsuki sighed before taking on a high-pitched, mimicking tone. "'But what'll you do after college?'" she imitated. "'Don't you want to do anything with your life?' That was when I knew that she was bad news. Anyone who gets cold feet 'cause their date happens to be one of the unemployed isn't usually the kind of person ya want to date in the first place."

"She sounds awful," Kumiko agreed.

"It got me thinking, though," Natsuki murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I've been slowly leeching off of my parents without them even knowing, and that's the only way I've been able to help pay the bills. I lounge around and watch crappy movies all day while you deal with crazy customers at that coffeeshop of yours. Maybe it's time for me to start pulling my weight, ya know?"

"Natsuki, you don't have to worry about that-"

"It's more of a personal decision than anything, to be honest. I don't wanna be known as 'the snarky roommate who gets protective over chairs and cries while watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica."

"Everyone cries while watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica."

"As true as that may be, I'd rather be known as 'the cool roommate who works at an actual job and amazes the entire local population with her multiple piercings.' It has a better ring to it. So, I've been looking through the paper for wanted ads." Natsuki held up the newspaper, showing off a section filled with circled portions and notes scrawled in the margins - 'pay sounds good but also seems kinda shady . . . good hours but far away - take bus? . . . might be interesting if it isn't overwhelmed by The Straights . . .

"Y'know, I could always put in a good word for you at Euphonium's," Kumiko offered. "It'd be easier than . . . whatever this is." Natsuki snorted.

"Ha! I don't have your patience, Kumiko. I'd probably end up punching some old dude in the face because he made an ignorant comment or something. They wouldn't want me at that place, and I wouldn't really want myself there, either. Besides, I think I might've found the perfect place." Natsuki pointed to another circled advertisement, asking for help with data input at local office, fixed pay rates, offers free coffee, must have 2+ years of experience to hire.

"You have two years of experience . . . data inputting?" Natsuki shrugged.

"I hacked a virtual pet site when I was twelve. It's basically the same thing." Kumiko raised an eyebrow. Natsuki chuckled. "Nah, I'm just pulling your leg. I took a technology course in high school. It was kinda boring, but the girls were cute. I would've continued it if . . . you know . . . I had stayed in school."

"Oh."

"I did hack that virtual pet site, though. All I did was type 'NATSUKI WAS HERE' on the main page and gave myself a bunch of gold. It was really satisfying, at least to my twelve-year-old self. Anyway, the interview's tomorrow."

"Good luck, then."

Late that night, Kumiko could hear Natsuki typing away on her old laptop, clearly researching whatever was necessary for the job. The click-clack of the keys eventually became as routine as the steady rainfall that sometimes poured upon the apartment building, and Kumiko fell asleep to the sound of the keys and the bright, blinking screen of the computer.

Natsuki was already out of bed when Kumiko opened her eyes, humming to herself as she packed a bag full of papers and her computer.

"You're up early," Kumiko noted. "Is the interview really this early in the morning?"

"Nope," Natsuki answered. "It's not until noon, but I figured I'd get a head start. Maybe I'll swing by Euphonium's on the way, who knows?"

"Well, I'm glad that you're finally feeling passionate about something." Kumiko picked up her own bag and headed for the door.

"'Finally?'" Natsuki echoed. Kumiko stopped.

"T-that's not what I meant, I just-"

"Nah, I get it. I don't live in a vacuum, Kumiko. I know I haven't done much lately, so this'll probably be good, ya know? For both of us."

"Good luck, then." Kumiko left the apartment without looking back.

"I think that's the last poster," Midori declared, standing outside of the coffeeshop with several posters featuring detailed drawings of a fluffy white cat plastered to the window.

"We've put them up all around town, just in time for the people to see them on their way to work, so someone's bound to have seen your cat," Hazuki added. "I'm pretty sure we ended up exhausting that copy machine, though." Kumiko looked closer at the posters. Have YOU seen this cat? Reward if found! was typed in large, bubbly print.

"You're offering a reward?"

"Yep!" Midori confirmed, clenching her fist. "I'll do anything to find Tuba-kun again."

"She's really attached to this cat," Hazuki said. "I wouldn't know what that's like, since I'm allergic."

"We're not allowed to have pets at the apartment," Kumiko recalled. "Natsuki brought in a ferret once, but it escaped."

"Where'd she get a ferret?" Midori wondered.

"I . . . don't know," Kumiko admitted. "I think it was from some girl she met online. It turned out she was actually just asking people on dates to give them ferrets."

"Oh, you mean like a friendship date?" Hazuki chimed in. "I went on one of those with Midori yesterday when we were making the posters. They're fun, friendship dates."

"It wasn't a friendship date," Kumiko muttered. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but Natsuki and I are-"

"Why are all of you standing outside?" The three baristas turned around. Reina stood in front of the coffeeshop, bundled in her usual coat. Kumiko felt heat rising to her cheeks despite the cold.

"Well, y'see, they were-"

"We were hanging up posters!" Midori interrupted, shoving one of the posters in Reina's face. "Have you seen this cat?" Reina read the lettering on the poster for a moment before gently pushing it back.

"I can't say that I have, but I'll keep an eye out for it," she responded. "You should probably go inside, it's cold out here."

"Y-yeah," Kumiko mumbled. "It's uh, pretty cold." Crap, that probably sounded really awkward. You could've said 'anything' else, dummy. "W-where do you get your gloves? They, uh, they seem really comfortable." That sounded even dumber. Maybe I should make a list of conversation topics for times like this. Reina looked down at the gloves on her hands.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I've had these for a few years now, and I tend to forget where I get things. I might have an extra pair, though, if you need gloves."

"N-no, I'm fine!" Kumiko yelped. "I was, uh, I was just asking for a friend."

"Well, I'll see you inside," Reina said, trotting into the coffeeshop as the bell chimed.

"We should probably get ready, too," Midori squeaked. Hazuki nodded in agreement. Kumiko wordlessly followed the two.

Reina was already waiting at the counter when the three baristas entered.

"S-sorry for the wait," Kumiko mumbled. "I'll have one grande single shot four pumps sugar free peppermint non fat extra hot no foam light whip stirred white mocha coming right up."

"It's fine," Reina reassured. "It gave me time to find my money." She handed Kumiko the crumpled wad of bills as she spoke.

"Well, uh, I guess I should thank you for your loyal visits here to Euphonium's." Where did that come from? Now she's going to think you're a weirdo or something.

"You always get the coffee order right," Reina responded simply. "It's hard to compete with that."

"I'm, uh, glad you think so!" Kumiko handed the coffee to Reina, trying not to react to the way her gloved fingertips felt against the coffee cup. "I-it's an honor to, uh, be r-regarded so h-highly, y'know?" Where did 'that' come from? Why is this so awkward? Crap, she's probably going to-

"That sounds like something you would say," Reina chuckled. Kumiko blinked.

"W-what?" Reina didn't respond.

"I'll be off, then," she said. "Thank you again for the coffee."

"N-no problem!" Kumiko called, waving goodbye as Reina left with the familiar chiming bell.

"She's cool," Midori squeaked. Kumiko silently nodded.

"Yeah." Reina disappeared around the corner with her hair trailing behind her. "She is."

Natsuki was slumped on the couch when Kumiko arrived back at the apartment, watching an old sitcom rerun on the television. Dark circles hung under her eyes as she wordlessly plucked at the couch's frayed threads.

"How was the job interview?" Kumiko asked, already unfortunately certain of the answer. Natsuki merely shrugged.

"Eh. It seemed like it was actually gonna work out at first. I knew all of the stuff the boss lady was talking about - computers and all that crap." Natsuki looked down at the thread. "I probably should've stopped there. Maybe I would've been able to get the job, but of course I ended up asking her out to lunch."

"Who?"

"The boss lady. Haruka, that was her name. I don't think she was even a boss - more of an assistant manager type of person, ya know? Kind of important, but not exactly one of the top dogs."

"Why did you ask her out to lunch, then?" Natsuki shrugged again.

"She was cute. I'm gay as hell and kinda desperate. Do the math, Kumiko."

"So you asked out your potential boss?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I didn't say it was a date, obviously. I just asked her if she wanted to get lunch, and for some godforsaken reason she said yes." Natsuki hugged a pillow, and Kumiko suddenly remembered two months prior, a darkened apartment, and a particularly awful date.

"So, uh, what happened then? Did she try to kiss you or anything?"

"Nah, she was actually pretty nice. We didn't have much in common - she's a businesswoman, I'm a deadbeat with a TV addiction. But she was just so friendly and welcoming and, well, I kinda ended up telling her everything." There was something fragile in Natsuki's expression, if only for a few seconds. "She told me that this job might not be very suited to my life experiences and needs after all. She said that I was 'too good of a person, this kind of work tends to harden people.' Ha." Natsuki looked up from the frayed threads to blankly stare at the television, the flickering lights reflected in her tired eyes. "I've had enough 'hardening' for a lifetime, if ya ask me. It's fine, though. I wasn't really expecting anything to come out of it, anyway."

"Natsuki, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be." Natsuki kept her eyes on the television. "It's not your fault. I'm not upset, either."

"If you want, I could-"

"Don't bother. I'm fine."

"If you promise you're okay-"

"I promise, okay? Besides, I'm kinda busy."

"With what?" Natsuki pointed to the screen.

"The romantic tension those two have been stupidly building up for eight seasons is finally gonna come to an end. I'm kinda sick of that subplot at this point, but ya kinda end up rooting for people if ya spend enough time watching them, regardless of whether ya actually give a crap about their problems."

"Well, uh, I'll leave you to watch that, then." Kumiko quietly shuffled out of the room and slipped into her bed. She could hear the television babbling from the other room, the light just barely visible from the bedroom.

It was raining again, Kumiko noted. It could more accurately be called a storm - wind whipped at her hair as heavy raindrops pelted her body, and debris flew around her. None of the passerby could be bothered to care, however, simply continuing on with their lives, walking in rhythm with the pit-pat of the rain. Two figures stood ahead, unmoving and silent. Kumiko braced herself against the rain - it was still just rain, in her mind, the dreamscape blurring her logic as dreams often do - and pushed forward to greet those two, pushing past more and more passerby as the pit-pat continued and grew even louder. She thought she might have seen Hazuki and Midori pass by, but she paid them no attention, focusing every scrap of her energy on the two standstills until she could vaguely identify them. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, really, as Natsuki and Reina were really the only two people she had thought about enough to dream about, but it came as a shock nonetheless. Kumiko called to them, screaming their names one after the other, an endless cry of "Natsuki! Reina! Natsuki! Reina!" but neither one responded, staying rooted in place, paying her no attention. The pit-pat continued, and the passerby became more and more frequent, pushing past Kumiko until there were too many and she was carried away, away from Reina, away from Natsuki, away from any kind of standstill, and the last thing she saw before waking up was a tiny motion in the distance, of Reina putting her foot forward with a tiny pit-pat.

Kumiko jolted upright, trying to forget the feeling of being pushed back by those passerby, the way Natsuki and Reina wouldn't respond, the endless pit-pat. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a familiar lump across the room. She must've finished that sitcom, Kumiko thought.

"H-hey, Natsuki," she whispered. Natsuki turned over and grunted in response. "You're not going to leave, right?"

"Honestly, Kumiko, it's the middle of the night," Natsuki yawned. "Could ya at least save this crap for the morning?"

"Yeah," Kumiko murmured. Pit-pat. "Sure."

"So, what was it ya wanted to ask me?" Natsuki was already sitting at the table when Kumiko prepared to leave. She briefly wondered why the older girl had fallen into the habit of waking up earlier. "You said something, I don't really remember what it was, but it sounded really sappy." Kumiko thought back to the awful dream, the terrifying pit-pat, the way the two most important people in the world to her hadn't even turned to look at her.

"Oh, that? It wasn't . . . it wasn't anything important."

"Was it about the festival?"

"The festival?"

"Yeah, that one that keeps on getting advertised everywhere. I saw a ton of ads for it yesterday, along with a bunch of weird posters for a lost cat. Someone must really love that thing. The posters were everywhere. Anyway, I heard that there's this cool band that's gonna be performing that night a couple of miles away from the fairgrounds. It sounds fun, maybe we could go or something."

"Y-yeah, that might be fun." Kumiko turned the doorknob. "I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah, see ya."

The cloudy sky remained dry, much to Kumiko's relief. The dream had left her more shaken then she would've cared to admit, and the dry ground gave her an odd sense of comfort. Although most of the dream had faded away, the image of Reina stepping forward, about to emit that same horrible pit-pat, was still seared into her mind, and she was just about ready to leap into her arms when she entered the coffeeshop with the chiming bell, idly wandering over to the counter. Hazuki and Midori took no note of her presence as they continued to talk about the festival - Hazuki was excitedly rambling about how Shuichi was "definitely going to ask her" today.

"You didn't send me the details." Reina leaned her elbows on the counter, giving no context to what she had said, but Kumiko didn't mind - she was relieved to see Reina's usual calm self unchanged after the events of that dream.

"What?"

"About the festival. You told me that you were going to text the details."

Crap, I forgot. "S-sorry," Kumiko mumbled. She 'wanted' me to tell her about it? Does that mean she actually wants to go? Is she trying to set up a date? The dream was forgotten for the moment as Kumiko fumbled for a response. "Well, uh, there was some roommate stuff going on, y'know, so I, uh, I didn't have time. I'll make sure to look the stuff up, though, since I'd really love to go and it'd probably, uh, be really fun."

"I checked my schedule, and I think I'm free that night," Reina continued. "I haven't bought tickets yet, though. I figured I'd wait."

"Wait?" Kumiko repeated. "For who?" Crap, she's got a boyfriend, doesn't she? That creepy dream was probably some kind of omen, setting me up for disappointment or something. She doesn't like me, of course she doesn't like me, I'm an idiot for ever thinking that, I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot-

"For you," Reina replied evenly, casually digging through her bag for her money and pulling her scarf tighter. Kumiko fiddled with the coffee machine as she prepared Reina's drink, trying to mask the fact that her stomach was twisting itself into knots as her fave flushed. "That's what I assumed you wanted, to go to the festival together."

"Y-yeah, of course!" Kumiko yelped.

"We can discuss tickets later, then. I'll be expecting a text." Reina softly smiled.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to do that." Kumiko finished the mocha and handed it to Reina, feeling her soft hands brush against her own. "So, I'll see you later, then?"

"Yeah." Reina sauntered away with her drink in hand, turning back to Kumiko to briefly wave before she left once again, flipping her scarf over her shoulder with a final flourish.

"Wow," Kumiko breathed.

The festival seemed to be a common thread throughout the day as customers streamed in with their usual gossip among friends, talking about how so-and-so planned to go with so-and-so and how the ticket prices had gone up, among countless other ramblings. One couple walked in hand-in-hand, whispering to each other about how excited they were. Kumiko served them a pair of lattes with a thin smile, wondering if she would ever be able to do that with Reina.

Shuichi entered later, holding three slips of paper in his hand. Hazuki bounded to greet him.

"Shuichi!" she chirped. Kumiko rolled her eyes. "Who're the tickets for?"

"Well, this one's for me, this one's for you, and this one's for your friend." He handed the two tickets to Hazuki and Kumiko, his hand lingering longer than necessary on Kumiko's. She shot him a glare.

"Wow, thank you!" Hazuki held the ticket in her hands as if it were a prized artifact. Kumiko didn't have the heart to turn down hers.

"I'll see you at the festival, then," Shuichi said, walking away.

"He didn't even order a drink," Kumiko muttered. "Unbelievable."

"I'll, uh, I'll just get my own, then," Midori sighed, standing in the corner. "This is fine, I'll just get my own, it's fine, it's fine."

"Guess who got us tickets to the festival?" Natsuki waggled the two slips of paper in Kumiko's face as soon as she entered the apartment, grinning. "It'll be really fun, and the two of us haven't gone out for a night on the town in forever." Kumiko looked down.

"Well, uh, the thing is . . ."

"Yeah?"

"The recommendations guy already got me one. It was kinda creepy, the way he did it, but it was a free ticket, so I didn't end up turning it down." Natsuki sighed.

"What're we gonna do with the extra ticket, then?"

"Well, I saw Reina today, and she seemed interested, so we could give it to her." Natsuki's expression turned to what could only be described as pure disappointment.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Sure. You can do that. That's fine. I'm fine. It's okay. Really, I don't mind. Take umbrella girl on a date, it's fine."

"You'd be coming too, obviously."

"Yeah. Of course. It's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

a/n: sorry not too much happened in this chapter, this one was mostly setting up for the Very Important Festival