a/n: even though the characters are in their twenties in this fic i still can't help but imagine them all still looking like they do in the show which means that midori still looks like she's twelve


Reina took the bus home, giving Kumiko's hand one last squeeze before stepping inside and sitting down. Kumiko watched the bus drive away, Reina's face still visible in the window. Kumiko waved until the bus was nothing but a speck on the road and Natsuki insisted that it was getting late. Yuuko was still standing at the bus stop, tapping her foot impatiently.

"We didn't find Kaori," she huffed, adjusting her ribbon.

"Hey, I never promised ya we'd find her," Natsuki grumbled. "I let ya stick around with us, and that's it. Nothing else to it, ribbon girl." Yuuko stomped her foot again.

"Well," she sniffed, pulling out a scrap of paper from her pocket and writing something on it. "I'll give you my number in case I ever do find her, okay? Maybe the three of us could hang out or something. I don't know, and quite frankly, I don't care." Yuuko handed Natsuki the scrap. She promptly stuffed it into her bag. Yuuko started to walk away.

"Don't ya need some way to get home?" Natsuki asked. "I haven't seen ya around, it doesn't seem like ya live around here."

"I'm taking my car," Yuuko responded, continuing to walk away from the two. "Maybe I'll see you around. Either way, thanks, I guess." She left without another word, and Kumiko was left alone with a very tired, very bitter Natsuki.

"So, umbrella girl, huh?" she grunted, walking a few feet ahead. Kumiko scrambled to catch up to her. "I guess I should've figured that something like that would've happened if I left ya alone with her at the concert. That band's got a habit of making people do crazy stuff."

"I'm sorry if I didn't notice you at first," Kumiko muttered, her mind still a world away atop that mountain, kissing Reina under the starry sky and the cheers of the crowd. "It was magical, Natsuki, it was unexplainable, I couldn't-"

"I get it," Natsuki muttered, staring down at the ground as she walked. "Ya think I've never felt that before? It felt like a spark, didn't it? It was amazing and perfect and now you're gonna fill that brain of yours with some idealized version of a relationship that only exists in fairy tales and really crappy teen novels. Turn back now, Kumiko, or you're gonna get hurt."

"Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can just walk up to the girl I may or may not be in love with and say 'hey my paranoid roommate says I shouldn't talk to you anymore because she's afraid of history repeating itself or something.'"

"Love?" Natsuki echoed, holding back a laugh. "You . . . sorry, ya think you're in love with her?" Kumiko shrugged.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Well, if it is love, then we've got a pretty big problem on our hands."

"W-why?"

"Tell me one real love story that ended happily, Kumiko."

"I'm too tired for this, Natsuki." Kumiko pushed ahead and continued walking home, the lights of the city still twinkling as the girls walked.

"Ya won't be 'too tired for this' when umbrella girl comes knocking on our door to break your heart!" Natsuki snapped. "Try being 'too tired' then!"

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," Kumiko growled, pushing further ahead. The rest of walk continued in silence. Kumiko could practically feel Natsuki's anger radiating from her body, as if her cynicism was contagious and had managed to slip from her mind into the air.


The two girls reached the apartment after a walk that seemed to take forever, and Kumiko quickly slammed the door before heading for the bedroom and flopping down on her own bed. She had fallen asleep before her head hit the pillow.


There wasn't much to the dream, admittedly. The concert repeated itself, with the voices of the two girls under the tree, the crowd, and the singer blending together into a haunting melody, a united, cheering song that seemed to envelope the entire mountain. Reina was there, still, and Kumiko felt that strange, incredible, wonderful kiss once again, until Natsuki and Yuuko came to interrupt it and Kumiko's eyes snapped awake.

Natsuki was curled up in her own bed, an unmoving lump bundled under the covers. Kumiko loosened her grip on the stuffed animal that she had been holding in her sleep. A dream? Taking extra care not to awake Natsuki from her slumber, Kumiko slipped out of bed and crept out of the room. The lights were still off, casting the living room in an eerie glow, but the huge teddy bear was still visible, lying on its back with the stuffing poking out. Kumiko smiled. So it wasn't a dream, then. I really did kiss Reina. She could still feel the energy of the previous night, the incredible feeling of unity when the band played their songs. The first strands of daylight began to filter through the window, and Kumiko began to pack her bag. I'll get an early start today, she silently decided. Reina might show up early, so I should probably be prepared. Kumiko smiled at the thought, thinking back to the kiss. It sure was amazing, wasn't it? Nobody answered, of course - she was only speaking in her head, and Natsuki was still asleep. Kumiko looked down at the teddy bear on the floor and gave it a high-five before grabbing her phone, about to put it in her bag when she noticed that the screen was still blinking with a notification. Kumiko curiously opened up the text.

Reina: Thank you.

Kumiko scrolled through the conversation to see if anything else was there, if Reina had provided any context. There was nothing else, only those two words with nothing to explain them. Was she thanking me for taking her to the festival? For going along with the mountain thing? For . . . kissing her? I should ask Natsuki . . . wait . . . crap. Well, I can't sit around waiting here forever. I'll see Reina today. This'll all turn out just fine. She was out the door before Natsuki even woke up.

The last leaves of the trees stubbornly clung to their branches, unwilling to join their fallen brothers and sisters. Do leaves even have genders? Kumiko wondered, watching another leaf tumble to the ground. Or families, for that matter? Probably not. They're leaves, they've probably got more important things than genders and families to deal with. The crisp fall air filled up her nostrils as the wind blew by. Kumiko shoved her hands into her pockets. She felt around for the notebook, pulled it out, and circled the buy cheap gloves note. Winter's going to be here soon, she thought. I can't believe it's already November. This fall's gone by really fast.

The familiar storefront of Euphonium's came into view, and Kumiko ran inside. Midori stood alone at the counter, polishing the same spot over and over again. The coffeeshop was empty, save for the two baristas and a middle-aged woman longingly staring out the window.

"Where's Hazuki?" Kumiko asked, hanging up her bag. Midori clenched the rag she was polishing the counter with.

"She's not going to be here today," she murmured, relaxing her grip on the rag.

"Did something happen?"

"It was-" Midori was interrupted by the chiming of the bell. Two girls walked in, and Kumiko quickly recognized them as the ones who had stood under the tree at the concert.

"Hey, it's you!" the taller one yelled. The quiet girl enthusiastically waved with her left hand - her right was firmly entwined with the tall girl's.

"You know them?" Midori squeaked in surprise, critically eyeing the tall girl's ripped jeans and strange-looking shirt embroidered with some kind of odd design on it. Kumiko and the quiet girl both nodded.

"Small town, huh?" the tall girl said, leaning on the counter. "Where's your girlfriend?" Kumiko's cheeks turned red.

"S-she's . . . she's not . . ." Kumiko could hardly finish the sentence, her face flushed as she remembered the kiss from the previous night again. The quiet girl signaled something, and the tall girl solemnly nodded.

"Don't worry, we get it," she reassured. "I won't make any judgement calls, and she won't, either." The quiet girl gave her a thumbs-up and smiled. "Anyway, we'll have an iced latte and a . . ." The quiet girl quickly made a series of gestures. ". . . A frappuccino."

"Coming right up!" Kumiko quickly got to work - simple orders such as these were easy when something like a grande single shot four pumps sugar free peppermint non-fat extra hot no foam light whip stirred white mocha came to her with as much ease as walking. Midori continued to stare at the tall girl until the quiet girl shot her a glare. Kumiko handed the two their drinks, and the tall girl began to slide out her credit card before the quiet girl quickly shoved a wad of bills in front of Kumiko.

"Are you sure?" the tall girl asked, turning to her quiet partner. "I can cover it, and it's not like this is some super-expensive fancy place, anyway." The quiet girl stubbornly shook her head. "Well, if you insist, I guess." Kumiko counted the money and quickly realized that the girl had either miscalculated or was offering a very generous tip. Kumiko handed the change back to the quiet girl, who promptly dropped it back into Kumiko's hands. She turned back to the tall girl and gave her more signals. "She said that you should keep it."

"R-really?"

"Yeah. Who knows, maybe it'll help you with your . . ." The tall girl leaned in closer and smirked. " . . . girlfriend." Kumiko blushed again.

"A-anyway, I'll see you two around!" she yelped. The two girls left the coffeeshop, cheerfully waving.

"Who were they?" Midori asked as soon as the girls were out of earshot. Kumiko smiled and pocketed the tip.

"Just some friends," she murmured.


As much as her mood had been brightened by the unexpected appearance of the girls from the concert, Kumiko still couldn't help but notice Reina's absence. The regular customers came and went, and Kumiko found herself constantly checking her phone for any new messages. Nothing from Reina came up, although Natsuki sent a stream of texts at around noon.

Natsuki: yo

Natsuki: so is umbrella girl there yet?

Natsuki: the fact that ya aren't screaming at me in all caps seems to indicate that she isn't

Natsuki: don't mind me

Natsuki: i'm just playing that video game where the lesbians die

Natsuki: it sucks but it's also really cute

Natsuki: before they die i mean

Natsuki: obviously

Natsuki: anyway

Natsuki: i doubt ya really wanna talk to me anyway

Natsuki: after all

Natsuki: ya have a /girlfriend/ now

Natsuki: probably

Natsuki: or ya will, at any rate, soon enough

Natsuki: i'm predicting it'll happen before the last leaves fall from the trees

Natsuki: that sounded really pretentious didn't it

Natsuki: maybe umbrella girl's rubbing off on me too

Natsuki: lol

Natsuki: but yeah

Natsuki: tell me if ya find her

Natsuki: there are a thousand different ways the manic pixie dream girl confesses her love to the protagonist

Natsuki: and a thousand different ways she breaks their heart in the end

Natsuki: so i'd like to know which one she pulls on you

Kumiko couldn't think of any way to respond.

"Who was that?" Midori squeaked. Kumiko shoved the phone back into her pocket.

"It was just my roommate," she sighed. "She didn't say anything important."


Kumiko kept her eyes on the window throughout the day, her heartbeat speeding up every time a girl walked past. It was never Reina.

"Who're you looking for?" Midori asked. Kumiko stiffened.

"N-nobody!" she yelped. Midori shrugged and went back to greeting a trio of middle schoolers, who were busy squabbling over the last cookie on display. Kumiko chuckled as she saw the children argue, each one attempting to come up with a more compelling reason for why they deserved the cookie.

"I'm the one who's paying, so I should get the cookie!" one snapped.

"Yeah, but my mom drove us here, so we wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me!" another retorted.

"I, uh, I don't really have a reason, but that's the only pastry here that doesn't set off my allergies, so . . ." The third child merely gave a sigh of defeat after trailing off. Midori pawed through a drawer behind the display and pulled out two more cookies.

"It's okay," she said, handing the three cookies to the children. The first one who had spoken handed Midori a fistful of money before grabbing one of the cookies.

"Aren't you a little young to be working at a coffeeshop, lady?" The child whose mother had apparently driven them squinted at Midori. "I mean, you kinda look like you're about our age." Kumiko snorted.

"I'm twenty-one," Midori mumbled, putting the child's money in the cash register with a traumatized look on her face.

"Well, anyway," the children said in unison. "Thanks, lady." The first two scuttled out the door with their cookies in hand as the third one hurried to catch up.

"Thanks again!" the third child yelled. "My allergies probably would've acted up if it hadn't been for you!"

"They thought I was their age," Midori muttered once the children had left.

"Well, I mean, uh . . ." Kumiko couldn't think of a response. "K-kids sure are weird, huh?"

"Yep," Midori confirmed, her mood clearly soured by the middle schoolers' collective mistake.


Kumiko grew more antsy as the afternoon passed, her hopes rising and being dashed every time she saw a girl resembling Reina pass by. A few hours after what Midori would only call "the incident," Kumiko heard her phone beep and quickly checked the messages.

Hazuki: hey kumiko!

Hazuki: im fine so if ur worried about why im not at work or something

Hazuki: dont be

Hazuki: its ok

Hazuki: just needed a break :)

Hazuki: ill be back tomorrow probably

Hazuki: i sent a text to midori too so she wont worry

Hazuki: hope you two are doing okay without me xD

Hazuki: anyway bye

Midori stared at her phone screen a few feet away, her eyes glazed over as she read the messages. She quickly typed something before putting her phone back in her bag.

"I'm going to be leaving early today," she announced, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "I need to comfort Hazuki, since this is kind of my fault.

"What happened?"

"It's about Tsukamoto."

"The recommendations guy?"

"It seems like they weren't meant to be, after all." Midori hung her apron up on the hook. "Hazuki's really heartbroken about it. I was the one who told her to go for it, I should be the one helping her."

"It's not your fault, Midori."

"I'm going to help her through this, Kumiko. We can't all have college girlfriends with trumpets and nice mom-cats, you know." Midori softly smiled before walking away, the bell's chiming echoing throughout the mostly empty coffeeshop. "Don't forget to close up when you leave," she added. Kumiko watched her leave in stunned silence.

She knew?


There weren't very many customers after Midori left, thankfully. It was lonelier than Kumiko had expected, being the only barista on duty. She wondered who even managed Euphonium's - the door labelled "manager" was always locked, and the three working baristas never saw anyone come out of it. There had been another girl who worked there when Kumiko started, but she left after a few months. Kumiko still didn't know what had happened to her. I wonder what she's doing now, she thought. She pulled out the moleskine notebook and scribbled find out what happened to that other barista under several lines of Reina's name written in loopy script alongside doodles of a smiling, blushing cat. Kumiko brushed the cat doodles with the tip of her thumb, once again thinking of Reina and the way she had been so willing to let Kumiko kiss her. She likes me back, doesn't she? That's the only reason why she would've let me kiss her, not to mention the fact that she kissed me back. She's not here, though. She would've been here if she liked me back. We should be talking to each other right now, figuring things out, not being apart. Does this mean that she hates me? Was I wrong, after all? God, she's probably disgusted now. I bet she's never going to come here again, and I'm never going to ever see her again, just like Natsuki's- Kumiko's thoughts were interrupted by a pair of fingers rudely snapping in front of her.

"Yo," a teenager grunted, jingling a pile of coins. "You've been staring into space like an idiot for like two minutes. I just want my coffee, okay?" Kumiko struggled to keep her cool.

"What would you like?" she asked through gritted teeth. The teenager looked over the board listing the available drinks behind Kumiko.

"I'll take that thing." The teenager pointed to the most expensive coffee on the board. Kumiko rolled her eyes and got to work. The teenager stomped their foot impatiently. Kumiko shoved the coffee in front of the teenager, who snatched up the cup before dropping the coins into Kumiko's hands. There was only a penny in change left over.

"Thanks for nothing!" Kumiko yelled as the teenager left, resisting the temptation to send them a very rude gesture with the hand that didn't hold the penny. The sun had gone down, and it seemed as if the teenager had been the last customer of the day. Reina's not coming. With a resigned sigh, Kumiko hung up her apron and grabbed her bag, walking out of the door with her head hanging low.


Kumiko trampled any leaves that flew by, catching them under her foot and relishing the crackling noise as she crushed them. The sky was cloudy, casting the town in hues of gray as the leaves scattered in the wind. Kumiko pulled out her phone and impulsively typed out a text, trying to ignore the chill spreading through her fingers.

Kumiko: reina?

Kumiko: i didn't see you at euphonium's today

Kumiko: is everything okay?

Kumiko: i hope i didn't do anything wrong

Kumiko: well anyway

Kumiko: i hope college is going well

She waited for the phone to buzz as she trudged home among the trampled leaves, but nothing came.


"She didn't come, huh?" Natsuki grunted as soon as Kumiko walked in through the door. The older girl was hunched over the giant teddy bear, carefully resewing the threads so that the bear's "stomach" offered a place to comfortably sit. Kumiko peered at the bear.

"I doubt anybody's going to want to sit in that," she commented, flopping down on the couch to get a better view. "We don't really get visitors, anyway." Natsuki shrugged.

"Ya never know, I might bring in a girl to watch a movie one day, and then ya will have to sit in the bear in order to avoid our cuddling. Anyway, I take it that your day was noticeably umbrella girl-less?"

"Yeah," Kumiko muttered. "I didn't see her at the coffeeshop, and the only text she's sent me is one that said 'thank you' in the middle of the night. I mean, how cryptic is that?"

"It's cryptic, all right. I'm not even surprised anymore. It's like this girl is taking all of her actions out of a garbagey teen romance she found at a book sale."

"She didn't come," Kumiko repeated to herself. "It doesn't matter if she sent me a weird text in the middle of the night, she didn't come and didn't give any reason for it."

"Maybe she'll disappear without a trace or something," Natsuki offered. "That's a pretty common trope, I think. It doesn't matter, anyway."

"Hmm?"

"She's gonna leave ya in the end. It doesn't matter how happily the authors of those books write their epilogues, 'cause real life doesn't work like a novel in the bargain bin. Real life screws ya over and over again until there's nothing left to screw over anymore, and ya wish that you'd never tried, ya wish that the world didn't suck as much as it did." Natsuki tightly clenched the bear's paw, her eyes darkening and her voice wavering. "Y-you just keep on wishing until something even marginally good happens and then you decide to call it destiny so that you won't feel so goddamn helpless."

"Natsuki, I . . ."

"Yeah, I know. I know, Kumiko, so ya don't need to worry about me. Worry about umbrella girl instead, okay?"

"I'm going to bed."

"It's kinda early for that, don't ya think?"

"I'm tired."

"Fair enough, Kumiko. Fair enough."


Kumiko might've dreamed of something that night - of flying, or of a childhood friend, or of a terrifying monster coming to chase her for all eternity, but she could not for the life of her remember what she had dreamed about when she woke up that morning with her hand curled around a stuffed animal, tucked in a ball as if she was attempting to be as small as possible. Natsuki was still asleep, her silhouette stark against the opposite wall. Kumiko checked her phone - she had placed it on her bedside table in hopes of being awakened by a text from Reina - but there were no new messages to be displayed. She sighed and got up. Natsuki shifted in her bed, tightly wrapping the covers around herself.

"Good luck with umbrella girl today," she muttered, her voice heavy with sleep. "Don't let her . . . do anything weird . . . or else . . ." Natsuki fell asleep before she could finish the sentence.


The sky had cleared up by the time Kumiko had reached the coffeeshop, the sun poking through the trees and illuminating the orange leaves. The workers streamed by, briefcases in hand as they entered their office buildings. An old man was already inside Euphonium's when Kumiko got there, hunched over a newspaper in one of the leather chairs. Hazuki and Midori both waved.

"Hi, Kumiko!" Hazuki chirped, a smile plastered on her face. Kumiko could tell that she was hiding something. "Sorry for not being here yesterday, I didn't really have the energy to work after everything that happened at that festival. I'm okay now, though!" The barista grinned again before turning on the cash register. "Believe me, I'm okay!" Midori stood a few feet away, polishing the counter again with tired eyes. Kumiko wondered about what had happened at that festival when she was on the mountain at the concert. 'With Reina.' She checked her phone again, but to no avail. There were still no new messages to be displayed.

"I'm sorry, Hazuki," Midori murmured, interrupting Kumiko's thoughts.

"It's okay, Midori!" Hazuki cheerfully reassured her. "I-I'm fine, really!"

"Uh, ma'am, could I please have a cappuccino?" All three baristas turned to face the old man who had been sitting in the leather chair.

"Yeah, of course!" Kumiko said, quickly preparing the man's drink. It was easy to prepare the drinks nowadays - the motions were methodical and simple, and it gave her an odd sense of satisfaction to serve the more polite customers.

"Thank you, ma'am," the elderly man said, taking the cup into his wrinkled hands and handing Kumiko a few bills.

"Old people sure are nice, huh?" Hazuki commented, still wearing the fake smile.

"Yeah," Midori said. "I've heard that you're allowed to have a bunch of cats when you're old. I guess I'll have to find Tuba-kun first, though."

"You're still worried about Tuba-kun?" Hazuki asked.

"Yeah, of course! I wouldn't want my cat- I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt because of me, so I need to find Tuba-kun as soon as possible!"

"That's the spirit!" Hazuki pumped her fist in the air. Midori joined her. Kumiko smiled.


Natsuki: hey

Natsuki: is she here?

Natsuki: it's been like three hours i'd honestly be surprised if she /wasn't/

Natsuki: whatever

Natsuki: i've been looking at cat memes all day

Natsuki: ya wouldn't believe what kinds of weird things those cats get up to

Natsuki: anyway

Natsuki: bye

Kumiko sighed. It was noon, and she had spent her entire break staring out of the window as Hazuki and Midori kept to themselves, both of them too tired for conversation. Kumiko was pretty sure that she had seen every resident of the town at this point except for Reina. She recognized at least three of Natsuki's exes, trotting along with a new person hanging around their arm. One of them winked at Kumiko, giving a flirty wave that made her gag.

"We should get back to work," Hazuki piped up.

"Yeah," Midori agreed. "I mean, we're the only three baristas here, after all."

"We've still got five minutes," Kumiko grunted. She didn't want to face the customers again, eyes glazing over faces that didn't belong to Reina. Kumiko couldn't resist it anymore, she wanted every part of her - her violet eyes, her flowing dark hair, her soft, delicate hands that fit inside Kumiko's own so, so perfectly. The kiss crossed through Kumiko's mind for what must've been the millionth time that day, and she wanted nothing more than to relive that moment, that perfect fragment of time when the two girls had been locked in such an embrace that it felt as if there was no distance between them at all - they were one being, one beating heart atop that mountain. Kumiko looked down at the table, wondering if it had just been a single moment of passion, some split-second decision caused by the vibrancy of the music that lead Reina to do something as insane as kissing her.

"Hey, isn't that your friend, Kumiko?" Hazuki said, pointing to a figure walking through the door. Kumiko's head shot up. Reina was entering the coffeeshop with a hand tightening around her bag, the mid-day light catching her in the perfect angle. Kumiko had never seen anything more beautiful. Quickly scrambling to the counter, Kumiko had already started on the mocha, finding the usual motions suddenly charged with electricity as she watched Reina step closer, a familiar button pinned to her coat.

"H-hey, you're wearing the, uh, button," Kumiko mumbled, not taking her eyes off of Reina as she finished preparing the coffee. Reina looked down at her coat.

"Yeah," she said, her expression betraying nothing. "I like the birds."

"Y-yeah, they're nice." Kumiko was about to hand the coffee cup to Reina before she suddenly came up with an idea. She yanked out a pen and scribbled four words on the cup. Reina reached into her bag to pay, but Kumiko stopped her, still blushing furiously. "I-it's on the house!" she squeaked, shoving the cup in front of Reina.

"That's not a very sound business practice," Midori offhandedly commented. Hazuki swatted her on the arm. Kumiko glared at both of them before turning back to Reina.

"A-anyway, uh, y-you should probably read it," she mumbled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "The coffee message, I mean. I-it's kinda important." Reina looked at the cup and nodded.

"Five minutes," she whispered before walking out of the coffeeshop.

"Hazuki, Midori," Kumiko began as soon as Reina had left. "If it's not too much trouble, could you two hold down the fort for a little while? I don't know how long I'll be gone - maybe a few minutes to an hour? Anyway, there's something important I need to do." The two baristas looked at each other before shrugging.

"Yeah, sure!" Hazuki chirped. "I mean, I wasn't even here yesterday, I guess we kind of owe it to you to give you a little break."

"Yeah!" Midori agreed. Kumiko smiled before immediately hanging up her apron and dashing out the door.

"Thanks, guys!" she yelled, racing down the cracked pavement sidewalk with the wind in her hair until she reached a small alleyway, where Reina was already waiting. She took a sip from the coffee cup, angling it in a way so that Kumiko could still see the words she had written in rushed, messy script.

We need to talk.

Kumiko walked closer as Reina peered out of the alley, her head tilted to the side in that way it always did when she was confused. Crap, I really am in love with her, aren't I? This could end horribly, just like Natsuki said, maybe I should turn back, maybe I should just-

"Was there something you needed to talk about?" Reina inquired. Kumiko stepped closer, and Reina returned in kind until the two girls were close enough to touch.

"What are we?" Kumiko breathed, terrified of the response. Reina's eyes widened, and Kumiko barely had time to respond before the other girl pulled her into another kiss. If the kiss at the concert had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, a spell brought on by the music, then this was the exact opposite. Every movement was deliberate as Reina pressed herself closer and Kumiko returned the gesture. The smell of rosemary wafted through her senses once again as Reina ran her hands through Kumiko's curls and pushed her body closer, moving her hand down as she traced the angles of her back. Kumiko's breath was stolen, the surrounding street fading into the background as she leaned against the alley's wall. Reina took hold of her hands and pressed even closer until there was no more distance between them, just two girls, a dropped coffee cup, and a brick wall. Reina finally stepped back, giving both of them a chance to catch the breaths that had been stolen by the kiss. Without thinking, Kumiko suddenly wrapped Reina in a tight embrace, taking a break from the kissing to simply rest against her shoulder.

"I thought it had been a dream," Reina whispered.

"So did I," Kumiko murmured, breathing in the scent of Reina's hair.

"We should talk about this somewhere else."

"Well, I happen to know a nice little diner someone showed me once."


The two girls walked to the diner hand-in-hand, deflecting the harsh stares of the passerby with pride, holding their heads up high until they reached the diner's door. The man at the reservations desk greeted the two with a friendly smile before ushering them to a booth in the corner, where Kumiko finally loosened her grip on Reina's hand as she sat down.

"When did you know?" Kumiko murmured, thinking back to the day they had met, the day she had learned Reina's name, the day they had first gone to this diner, all of the days that had lead to Kumiko skipping home in joy.

"It was that day we met, in the rain. September fourteenth, I believe."

"W-wait, really?"

"Yeah."

"I still haven't given you that umbrella back, have I?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Anyway, if you . . . y'know . . . knew so soon, why didn't you, uh, try to make a move or something?" Reina shrugged.

"I was waiting for you to do something first," she explained. "I didn't want to scare you off, on the off-chance that my gaydar was wrong. It was going off the charts when I saw you, I'll admit."

"Does everyone here have gaydars? A-and what was that about not wanting to scare me off?"

"I don't particularly like most of the people at my college. I wasn't going to risk the one friend I had made around here by attempting to flirt too soon. It took a lot of my patience, though." Reina chuckled, pushing a hand through her bangs. "You were killing me, Kumiko."

"D'ya want anything, you two?" the waiter asked, standing over the table with a pen poised over a notepad. "I'll wait, if you need some more time."

"Uh, yeah, it'd be great if you could come back in a few minutes," Kumiko answered. The waiter grunted and walked away. "I still can't believe that this is real," Kumiko murmured as she turned her attention back to Reina. "My roommate, she didn't . . ."

"I get it." Reina wrapped her hand around Kumiko's again, gingerly brushing the girl's fingers against her own.

"D-does this mean that we're . . . uh . . . dating now?" Kumiko mumbled, still electric from Reina's touch, still suspended in disbelief over the events of the past few days. Reina idly drummed her fingers on the table, as if she was lost in thought.

"I suppose it does," she replied.

"Well, you'll have to, uh, forgive me if I'm not that good at it at first. Dating, I mean. I've never really had a g-girlfriend before, y'know? I'm not quite sure what it's going to be, what dating even means."

"I'd assume that it's something we'll have to define for ourselves, then."

"Hey, kids, this is cute and all, but do you want somethin' to eat or not?" Both girls looked up to face the waiter, tapping his foot as he repeatedly clicked his pen. Kumiko quickly looked over the menu and chose an item at random.

"I'll, uh, have the waffles, then," she decided.

"I'll take the bacon omelette," Reina added. The waiter nodded, scribbled a note on his paper, and left.

"What do you mean, 'define it for ourselves'?" Kumiko asked once the waiter was out of earshot.

"It's a subjective term. It can mean whatever we want it to, I suppose. A few decades ago, we probably would've been shunned or killed for even saying that we were dating. It's a concept, an idea, more than anything."

"I don't really get it. All of this stuff about it being subjective and undefined and stuff . . . it doesn't really matter, does it? We don't have to shove a label on it. I . . . I want to spend time with you, I really want to keep on holding your hand and know that you're not going to drift away or anything, so would it be okay if we just did that? We don't really have to figure anything out - not yet, at least."

"That's fine. We can do that." Reina looked out the window for a moment. "That's what I'd like, too."

"Hey, kids, here's your lunch," the waiter grunted, approaching with two platters stacked on his arm. Kumiko sniffed the waffles and grinned. Reina poked at her omelette expectantly. "Try not to make out over the waffles," the waiter added, beginning to walk away. "It makes the other customers uncomfortable." The girls ignored him.

"What an ass," Kumiko muttered, munching a forkful of her waffle. Reina shrugged.

"He doesn't understand, that's all. He's been here since I started college, probably longer. He doesn't seem to have any desire to do anything else with his life, so I suppose he's stuck here."

"W-well, anyway," Kumiko mumbled, quickly redirecting the conversation in fear of Reina's disdainful opinion of the rude waiter eventually being applied to her. "I, uh, I said this earlier, but I should mention it again - I don't really know how these things work. I'm probably going to screw it up or something." Reina put down her fork for a moment to give Kumiko's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"We don't have to worry about that. If you want the honest truth, I don't have very much experience with this, either. We're both going to figure out what this means. Together." Kumiko snorted.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that you said that in such a serious tone, it was kinda funny. My roommate - Natsuki, you've met her - she keeps on calling you a 'manic pixie dream girl.'"

"Is that supposed to be some kind of insult?"

"I don't know, actually. I mean, it sounds like a good thing, but she's been using it in a kind of bad context."

"Well, regardless of what she meant by it, we can forget about that for now. Your waffles are probably getting cold, and I heard that the movie we saw is getting a sequel."

"Wait, really?" Kumiko pulled out her phone and tapped in the movie's title. Announcements written with digital exclamation points were scattered across the pages, excitedly telling of the news. "Holy crap," she breathed. "Wait, it says here that it's not even in production yet. We're going to have to wait another three years, at least."

"That's to be expected, though. It takes a long time for these to come out, if it's going to be any good. We'll just have to wait until it's time for it to happen."

"I guess," Kumiko sighed. "Still, it'd be nice if it could happen sooner rather than later, y'know?"

"You can't rush things, Kumiko. Besides, sometimes the waiting is better than the end product."

"Speaking of waiting, are you going to even touch that omelette?"

"Probably not."

The two girls continued their idle chatter for what must have been almost an hour, but felt like nothing at all. Reina's soft hand remained intertwined with Kumiko's as they talked, and Kumiko didn't dare pull away until her phone buzzed in her purse, blinking its notification light.

Hazuki: kumiko?

Hazuki: where are you?

Hazuki: its kind of hard to keep this place running with just me and midori

Hazuki: sorry

Hazuki: plz come back soon tho

"I guess I have to go, then," Kumiko sighed, grabbing her bag and standing up. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"I should probably go, too," Reina said, looking at her watch. "This was fun, though. We'll have to do it again soon. Maybe we'll be able to find a more clear definition for 'dating' next time." She leaned over to Kumiko and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Y-you missed," Kumiko mumbled, blushing furiously.

"Hmm?"

"It's a really cheesy line, I'm not gonna repeat it again."

"I think I know what you mean." With that, Reina took Kumiko's face into her hands and pulled her in for another kiss. It was wonderful, still, an incredible feeling that left Kumiko suspended in another reality, a place where only she and Reina existed, a place where the waiter 'wasn't' rolling his eyes and grumbling to himself as he watched, a world where Kumiko didn't have to return to her mundane job filled with moronic customers, a world where Reina wasn't burdened by college. That world, Kumiko thought, would be a much nicer one to live in. It didn't last long, though, after a random customer yelled a profanity at the two girls and they had no choice but to pull back and say their goodbyes in front of the diner before going their separate ways. Kumiko watched Reina leave, her heart swelling with the knowledge that Reina was looking back at her, too, that she wasn't just falling for this girl but this girl was falling for her too. It was a wonderful feeling, one that she couldn't really describe, but it felt like something similar to relief.


Kumiko came home that night whistling to herself under the night sky, feeling like she was on top of the world. She paid no attention to the freezing air or the damp leaves - she felt like a sunbeam, a light-headed, light-hearted girl whose dreams had just come true in the most unexpected way. Natsuki was curled up on the couch again, tightly bundled in a threadbare red blanket as she stared blankly at the glowing television screen, when Kumiko entered through the door with a grin on her face.

"Ya did something stupid, didn't ya?" she grunted, her voice more gravelly than usual. Kumiko looked down guiltily before joining Natsuki on the couch.

"Before you say anything else, I have been waiting. It's been two months, I think I've learned enough about her to know that she isn't going to suddenly ditch me like the weird evil manic pixie dream girl you say she is."

"That's what they all think at the beginning, isn't it? 'Oh, she's different. She's special.' Bullcrap, all of it. You're gonna regret this, Kumiko, but I won't stop you. I'm just giving a warning, okay? Now, I just found this great movie made in the nineties and the girls are just about to go on a date, so it'd be nice if ya got out of the way. You're blocking the screen." Kumiko scooted to the other side of the couch, and the two of them watched the movie in silence. The stubborn frayed thread still hung from the edge of the couch, and Kumiko began to pluck at it. "What's gonna happen in a few years, Kumiko?" Natsuki muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Where are we going to be? Are you going to end up just as messed-up as me, watching movies alone in the dark because umbrella girl broke your heart? Or are you going to leave me in the dust, skipping merrily into the sunset with her?" Kumiko's grip on the thread tightened.

"I don't know. Shouldn't we just try to 'live in the moment,' or whatever?"

"I guess." The grainy pixels on the screen danced in front of Natsuki's eyes. "Anyway, it's getting late, and I wouldn't wanna spoil your wonderful day. You should get to bed."


Kumiko's phone buzzed late that night, long after Natsuki had clambered into bed mumbling about how the movie had left off on an unsatisfying note and that there should've been a sequel. Fumbling around for the device in the dark, Kumiko smiled when she saw the texts.

Reina: If you want the truth, I find texting to be rather difficult.

Reina: The screen's a bit too small for efficient messaging.

Reina: That's irrelevant, though.

Reina: I just wanted to tell you that I really enjoyed today.

Reina: It's okay to not have a real definition for this yet.

Reina: What's important is that this is a confession of

Reina: ...

Reina: ...

Kumiko: what?

Reina: Sorry, the battery almost died.

Reina: I really should just carry around a charger instead of having to route around for one downstairs.

Kumiko: what were you saying?

Reina: I was saying that this is a confession of

Reina:

Kumiko: ?

Reina: The emoticons don't seem to work when I send them to your phone.

Reina: It's not important, anyhow.

Kumiko: ok

Reina: Do you think we could establish some kind of routine?

Reina: With our meetings, I mean.

Reina: Or dates, or whatever we want to call them.

Kumiko: well

Kumiko: uh

Kumiko: i could try to move my break to later

Kumiko: so that it'd work with your college stuff

Kumiko: we're mostly self-governed at euphonium's anyway so it's not like i have a manager who's going to get on me about not sticking to the schedule

Reina: I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully, then.

Kumiko: you too

Kumiko: i can't send emoticons either but if i could i would send that one that pretty much just means less than three but looks like a heart

Reina: Good night, Kumiko.

Kumiko: 'night, reina


The weeks that followed could only be described as euphoric. Kumiko felt like she was floating above the clouds, and she got the feeling that Reina was, too. Kumiko still dealt with infuriating customers, and Reina still worked under her college's perpetual stress, but they managed to make it work among countless midday diner dates, movies, and shared kisses on the sidewalk. Reina became a regular visitor at the apartment, much to Natsuki's dissatisfaction. There were nights spent closely cuddling on the couch, watching movie marathons with a bowl of popcorn in Reina's arms - Kumiko often stole the kernels when she wasn't looking. Natsuki would usually find herself sitting inside the bear during these nights, grumbling to herself while nestling in the toy's stuffing. She always made Reina leave before the clock struck ten, and the two girls would then share one last kiss in the hallway before Reina gave Kumiko a quick wave and caught the last bus home. It was perfect, Kumiko thought.

"Perfect things, Kumiko," Natsuki warned her after one particularly close night, "don't usually last long."

Kumiko was too busy flying among the stars with Reina to hear her.