a/n: the party was an early idea in this fic that i had scrapped because it didn't really fit the tone of the story, but then i realized that anything can have drama if you try hard enough
The endless countryside rolled along, and Kumiko soon grew tired to watching tree after tree and field after field. Reina had closed her eyes, earbuds tucked neatly in her ears, her body perfectly still.
"We should play a game!" Hazuki chirped, gripping the leather back of Kumiko's chair. "You know, one of those games that kids usually play on buses? Singing songs, truth or dare, that kind of thing?"
"I never really liked those," Kumiko admitted. "They were too noisy, and people would always be yelling in my ear, daring me to kiss some boy I didn't know." She glanced at Reina's sleeping form. "I always said no, of course, b-but it was still annoying. I mean, it wasn't like I could tell them." Hazuki looked away guiltily. "I'm still not even sure if I should've told my whole class like that this year."
"Yeah, but you kissed Kousaka-san in front of all those people. You wouldn't have done that if you were scared, right?"
"Most of them were strangers. I dunno if I could've done it in front of people I actually knew, and anyway, I felt like something . . . like something was pulling me towards her, and I was just following its will."
"The red string of fate!" Midori piped up, the top of her head barely reaching over the seat. "You're soulmates, that was what it was!"
"I don't think we're soulmates, Midori." Kumiko's voice shook as she spoke. "We're not like Nozomi-senpai and Mizore-senpai, in any case." The pair in question whispered sweet nothings to each other a few seats ahead, Nozomi's feet swinging back and forth eagerly.
"Sure, you're not all lovey-dovey like them, but you're still . . . lovey, I guess. Is that a word?" Midori shrugged and let out a noise that sounded like mmhmmhmm, which Kumiko figured was probably a sleepy version of I don't know. "It looks a lot like you're dating, anyhow."
"We won't make you play any games you don't want to!" Midori squeaked. Kumiko smiled.
"Thanks."
Room assignments and schedules were handed out drolly, the rest of the students seeming just as weary as Kumiko felt, and she soon found herself in a room with Reina and Midori.
"I'm going to sleep," Kumiko announced as soon as the trio made their way to what would be their home for the next few days.
"It's not even eight yet!" Midori squeaked indignantly. "Don't you wanna get to know each other more?"
"We already know each other," Reina interjected. "I agree with Kumiko, in any case. We should sleep."
"Of course you'd agree with her," Midori huffed, in what was probably her version of a sarcastic tone.
"There's enough room in here for all three of us to comfortably space out where we sleep - I guess the rooms aren't quite as cramped because of the smaller size of the band." Everyone quieted down for a moment, as if the former third-years would burst in through the door at any moment, Asuka boisterously announcing her entrance as Haruka and Kaori nervously trailed behind her.
"Kumiko-chan, why are you crying?" Kumiko stiffened.
"Eh? Oh, I think it's just the, uh, allergies! Yeah, it's the allergies." Midori shrugged and went back to fluffing her pillows, but Reina's gaze lingered on Kumiko for a moment longer than needed.
Midori, despite her protests, was out like a light as soon as Taki called curfew, while Kumiko restlessly flopped around in her too-warm futon, sweat sticking her clothes to her skin. She couldn't see Reina's face, but for how still she was - almost like a corpse, Kumiko thought - she thought that she must've been asleep already. Eventually, Kumiko relented and dug through her bag until she found the now-battered book nestled in there. Squinting by the light of her phone, she flipped through the pages and found her spot.
"What's that?" Kumiko let out a soft yeek! when she realized that Reina had turned around, completely awake.
"Oh, the book? It's something I found at a used bookstore, I think it was written in the fifties." Without missing a beat, she added, "you can borrow it once I'm done, if you want." Reina scooted closer.
"What's it about?" she murmured. Kumiko held out the book to show her.
"There's this girl who works at a department store, she's really into set design and stuff, and then she meets this mysterious woman who leaves her gloves behind on the counter, and then . . . well, that's as far as I've gotten."
"Sounds interesting." Reina ran her finger along the edges of the yellowed pages. "It feels old. You said you bought it used?"
"It's, uh, cheaper that way, and besides, the cover art's really pretty."
"You'll have to show it to me in the morning." Kumiko nodded. Reina stretched out her fingers and wrapped her pinkie around Kumiko's, keeping her eyes on the book.
"Hey, Reina?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think we'll remember this in the morning?" Reina took a deep breath out and rustled in her covers.
"I hope so." She didn't say anything else for a few seconds. "But I doubt it."
"Is this . . . okay, then?" Kumiko cupped Reina's cheek in her hand. She could see Reina's chest sharply constrict underneath her blanket. "If it's not, I can just-"
"It's fine," Reina exhaled. Kumiko felt like her very heart was threatening to burst from her body and take her blood with it.
"S-so, can we stay like this? Until morning, at least?" Reina made a hrm noise under her breath.
"I suppose so."
Kumiko awoke to see Reina standing with her hands on the door at the other end of the room.
"Now, we only have a day here - the school's budget couldn't afford more than that, I'm afraid - so we should do our absolute best with that time before the mandatory off-days are upon us." Taki laughed lightly.
"So he does laugh," Natsuki muttered, looking like she hadn't slept at all the previous night. "Huh." Momo rocked back and forth in her chair eagerly.
"Kawashima-senpai told me that it was super tough here," she said. The thought of anyone calling Midori senpai was enough to make Kumiko snort. "I can't wait."
"You really can," Kumiko deadpanned, realizing the rather obvious fact that she was the only one out of the three euphs who had gone through this before. "It's . . . tough, even when you don't have feelings and stuff getting in the way."
"Speaking of feelings, what happened to Niiyama-sensei and Hashimoto-sensei?" Natsuki wondered. "I never really got to know 'em, but they seemed pretty cool."
"They're both busy with their own projects, Nakagawa-san," Taki calmly interjected. Natsuki flinched. "I invited them here, but they couldn't make it."
"I didn't know he could hear you," Momo whispered.
"The acoustics in this room are incredibly good, Moritomo-san." It was Momo's turn to flinch. "Now, let's begin."
"Yep, I'm definitely gonna die," Hazuki announced that night at dinner. "Taki-sensei's a great teacher, but that was too much! I don't even know if we got any breaks!"
"We had one," Midori offered. "You passed out before Taki-sensei even finished telling everyone. We had to find smelling salts to wake you up!"
"You sound way too eager about that," Hazuki deadpanned. Midori politely stepped aside.
"I'm . . . glad that we're more united as a band than we were last year, at least," Reina said, poking at her food. "I can't eat this."
"You mean because of the audition stuff and how weird it was to have someone as pretty as Niiyama-sensei around?" Natsuki asked. Kumiko remembered Reina's dead-fish-eyes this time last year with an odd pang in her chest, the green-eyed monster threatening to poke itself out from the table. "I saw her . . . twice, maybe? She was cute." Reina looked away to the side, seeming almost bashful.
"Yes."
"I'm going to take a shower," Kumiko yawned. Reina silently dropped her platter of food into the nearest garbage can. "I can't believe this is already our last day here."
"Yep," Natsuki confirmed. "The buses leave at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Madam President said they'll leave with or without everyone in 'em, but somehow I doubt that."
"We should hurry there just to be sure," Reina said before standing up herself, walking in tandem with Kumiko out of the dining hall and into the locker rooms. Kumiko covered her eyes as soon as the two made it to the lockers. "What?" Kumiko peeked out from behind her fingers.
"N-nothing!" she timidly yelped. "I just, uh, didn't want to . . . y'know . . . watch you." Reina cocked an amused eyebrow.
"You shouldn't worry about it," she said. Kumiko stayed rooted in her spot.
Kumiko finished the book that night, closing its well-worn cover and trying her best to slip it back into her bag quietly.
"Hey, hey, quiet down!" Yuuko snapped the following morning, pushing her hands down as if that would shut up the band's chatter. There was a surprising amount of it, too, for how early it was - Kumiko had half-expected to see the band stumble out of the buildings like zombies, some still in their pajamas and others clutching instant coffee in shaky hands. "We have to take attendance."
"Told ya they wouldn't leave anyone behind," Natsuki whispered. "Not like there was any doubt in the first place."
"It's still weird that Taki-sensei would've dragged us all the way out here just to come back, though," Hazuki piped up. "Isn't it? It would've been easier to just have longer practices or something." Reina and Natsuki both took on the rather sudden appearance of someone who was very, very interested in the scattering of rocks near the parking lot. Kumiko recalled the turmoil that the euphonium had caused, and she wondered if the band's finances were really that bad.
"Katou, Hazuki." Hazuki shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.
"Here!" she barked.
"Kawashima, Midori."
"Here!" Midori squeaked. She had to stand up on her seat to be seen by Yuuko.
"Shouldn't the teacher be taking attendance?" Reina whispered.
"Kousaka, Reina."
"Here," she said before turning her attention back to Kumiko. "It's . . . strange." The two had ended up in a seat closer to the front, and Kumiko could see Taki squirming uncomfortably a few rows ahead as he scribbled down notes intently.
"It might just be because he's busy. I wouldn't mind having an assistant if I had to tell sixty of us what to do." Reina bristled when Yuuko sat down, as did Kumiko, but for entirely different reasons - she could still see Natsuki's slumped figure out of the corner of her eye. "W-wait, are you jealous?" Reina tensed.
"Of course not!" she huffed, sounding like a great noble who'd just been offended on some grand behalf. Kumiko was surprised that she hadn't pulled a cape out of nowhere just to flick it in her face. "I don't have anything to be jealous of, what makes you even consider that?"
"Your reaction," Kumiko retorted. "Y'know, we can always . . . talk, about that. About Taki-sensei."
"We can't," Reina said ruefully, starting to peer out the window. "It's nothing we can just 'talk out.' It's just . . . there. It's there and it's stupid and I can't stand it, but it doesn't change anything to bring it to light. All it does is make me think things I don't want to think about." Kumiko leaned on Reina's shoulder tentatively, unsure of what else to do. "Besides, Yoshikawa-senpai is managing in her own ways. She's qualified."
"You are too, Reina."
"I wouldn't call a year and a half of being the instrument manager qualified to be the president, Kumiko. It's nothing. It's not even really a question of who's best for it, it's just the old third-years nominating the people they know for the job."
"What do you mean?" Kumiko dug her fingers into the armrest on her seat.
"You knew more about that fight before the competition than I did, but what I saw, two arguing leaders who had kept their problems behind closed doors and barely ran the club before that disrupted one of the most important practices we've had."
"Natsuki's my friend, Reina, she was just-"
"I wasn't accusing her of anything. I don't blame either of them, it's nothing that concerns me, but . . ." Reina paused for a moment, lifting her head slightly. "Do you really think they're still the best-suited to the position?" The bus lurched forwards, and Kumiko was thrown back in her seat.
"Do I . . . I c-can't answer that, Reina." Kumiko was vaguely aware of how much she said Reina's name - it was a way to ground herself, to remind herself that who she was talking to. "It's like you said. It doesn't, uh, concern me." Reina looked ahead at the landscape in front of the bus. The weather had turned gray again, and debris floated and tossed in the wind by the highway.
We were only gone for two days, but it already feels like it's been years, Kumiko thought as she stepped off the bus, her suitcase bumping behind her on the cracked tar.
"I'm afraid that the school won't let us practice continuously until the Kansai competition, as much as I'd love to put in as much time before then as we can," Taki said, standing a few feet away from the cluster of students. "So, I won't see any of you for the next week. Please enjoy this short break." He walked away with his back straight and his shoes clapping against the ground.
"What're you gonna do with the break time, Kumiko?" Hazuki asked, hands folded behind her back. Midori flanked her on the other side.
"I . . . don't really know, actually. I'm just kinda looking forward to having some time to sleep."
"That's fair," Reina said groggily, rings of sleep circling her eyes. She'd fallen into dreamland hardly a minute after the bus had left, and Kumiko envied her for how easy it was to do that, to sleep without a care in the world. She seemed weary, far more so than anyone else standing in the little circle.
"Oh, well, I'm thinking about hosting a party!" Hazuki broke into Kumiko's thoughts with her usual chipper attitude. "You know, like in the movies - a bunch of crazy teens making a big mess and having the time of their lives! We'd invite the whole band-"
"Who's 'we?'"
"Myself and Midori-chan, of course!" Hazuki proudly pointed to herself and to the girl next to her. "We were talking about it on the ride back here. I said it'd be better to hold it at her house - she's super rich, you know, her place is really fancy but also really cozy, somehow, but Kohaku isn't going anywhere either, and I couldn't bear to force someone so cute to see us dancing like wackos!"
"Considerate," Reina muttered dryly. Hazuki clapped her on the shoulder.
"Aw, Kousaka-san, don't be like that! I'm inviting you, too!" Reina rubbed her shoulder, keeping her eyes downturned. "Anyway," Hazuki continued, "I'm gonna host it at my house, since my parents are driving my little siblings to sleepaway camp in two days. Convenient, huh?"
"Shouldn't you be focusing on practicing?" Reina inquired, like a detective pressing her suspect for details, the final step of the interrogation, a carrot and a stick waved in the air. Her voice was measured and even, cold, and Hazuki didn't even seem to notice.
"It's like Taki-sensei said. We should enjoy our break, and what better way to do that than to goof off like the kids we are? C'mon, I'm sure it'll be great - maybe I'll even sneak in some . . . you know . . ." Hazuki lowered herself to a whisper, oddly crouching as if the birds could hear her. ". . . alcohol."
"That's a really bad idea," Kumiko, Midori, and Reina said in unison.
"Why?"
"We decided to invite the whole band," Midori pointed out. "Do you really want the loss of sweet little Momo's innocence on your hands?" Hazuki pondered the concept for a moment.
"I guess not," she admitted. "We're still bringing in red cups, though! Even if they just have juice or something in 'em. It's one of those things you need to have at a party."
"That's fair," Kumiko said, unwilling to admit that she had no idea why red cups were important. "A-anyway, I guess we should all head home? It's pretty nice out here, I'd like to make it back before it gets dark."
"I'll go with you." Reina announced those four words like a declaration, something important, and Kumiko pretended not to notice the way her heart sped up and rattled like a jackhammer when Reina held her arm. "You two are free to join us, if you want." Hazuki waggled her eyebrows and started to step away, beckoning for Midori to join her in the crowd.
"I g-guess it's just the two of us, then," Kumiko mumbled. Reina simply nodded before walking forward, taking Kumiko along with her.
Kumiko tugged at the fabric of her uniform, sticky from the sweat that clung to it under the blazing sun.
"Why's it so hot?" she moaned. Reina didn't seem bothered, but then again she didn't ever seem to be bothered by things as trivial as the weather, just pretending it didn't exist, focusing on her goals and nothing else. Her hand, still clinging to Kumiko's exposed arm, was colder than Kumiko would've expected, colder than it usually was, but it was a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the air around her.
"Katou-san seems dead-set on throwing that party," Reina commented. "Are you going?" Kumiko shrugged.
"I dunno. Parties have never really been my thing, but if it's just something kinda small with a few of the band members, it might be nice."
"I'll consider it." Reina paused for a moment, stopping in her tracks. "Won't she hold it late at night, though? I'm not supposed to take the train after dark."
"I g-guess I could ask someone to drive us. My mom, or one of the third-years."
"Or Taki-sensei," Reina said, bumping lightly into Kumiko with a playful elbow to the side. Kumiko felt an oddly warm stirring in her chest, a realization that Reina could joke about the man she'd once idolized.
"His car smells kinda funny," Kumiko said, out of habit, and she quickly clapped her hands over her mouth when Reina swiveled her head like some kind of teenaged owl to look at her, dropping her hand from where it still clung to Kumiko's arm.
"You've been in Taki-sensei's car?"
I really need to start choosing my words more carefully. "Y-yeah, it was last year - right before I came down with that crappy cold, my sister and my parents were fighting and so I took a walk and Taki-sensei was buying flowers for his dead wife and then my umbrella broke so he just . . . drove me home." Kumiko took a deep gasp of air after she finished speaking, smacking her chest to stop her lungs from bursting.
"Oh." Reina had stopped walking entirely - both of them had, though Kumiko wouldn't have even noticed if it it weren't for the elderly drunk starting to stumble towards them, mumbling things under his breath that neither girl dared to think of. Reina took hold of Kumiko's hand, and the two of them ran down the cracked pavement, the sidewalk that seemed to reach out into the vast labyrinth of the city.
"Y'know, I don't think he was - khack - chasing us," Kumiko breathed, pushing open the scratched glass door to the fast food place she'd talked at with Natsuki hardly a month before. Reina followed close behind, similarly exhausted. "He was p-probably just . . . being weird."
"It's still better to be safe than sorry," Reina quipped as she sat herself down in one of the chairs close to the window.
"Yeah." Kumiko sat opposite her, fidgeting nervously. "We could've just gone to the train station. Why'd you bring us here?"
"I wanted some peace and quiet." Reina took one of the sugar packets between her fingers, twirling it around and around. Kumiko was mesmerized. "The past few weeks have been stressful for everyone - what with Kyoto, the extended practices, even everything that happened with the two leaders."
"Believe me, I know." Kumiko laughed lightly to herself. "Maybe Hazuki's party might be better for us than we thought. It'd be nice to just kick back, be kids when we can, all of that cliché stuff. Do you get what I mean?"
"I think I do." Reina set the sugar packet down on the table's smooth surface. "That's it. We're going." Kumiko had to smile at how determined she seemed about something so small. "Taki-sensei . . . aside, we'll have to find someone to drive us."
"She said that it's in two days. My mom's going to some meeting thing that night, I think."
"You could ask one of the third-years." Reina had picked up the sugar packet again and started to poke at its grainy corners. "You're friends with them, aren't you? I'm sure that at least one of them can drive."
"I'll ask around." Kumiko ran a hand through her hair, not quite meeting Reina's gaze. "W-why'd you really invite me here, Reina? It wasn't just for party plans, was it? Or for peace and quiet?" Reina looked away.
"I wanted to spend time with you," she said. "It's as simple as that." Kumiko felt that familiar heat rush to her cheeks, and her hands started to fidget where they rested on the table. Reina held them nonchalantly, as if it were nothing at all to do it, fingers weaving and unweaving themselves, until she broke away again. "They're always watching us - your friends, the other students, they're watching each other and waiting for something to talk about. I don't really mind it, I've never really cared about what other people think, but it's not . . . it's not easy, either." Kumiko's pulse quickened, waiting for Reina to say something, anything that'd explain her behavior from the past few months.
"A-and?"
"And that's all there is to it." Reina blinked quickly and stood up. Kumiko stared up at her, bewildered.
"We h-haven't even ordered anything yet."
"I think it's time to head home, Kumiko." Reina reached out her hand, and Kumiko took it. The two girls walked out the door with their shoulders pressed up against each other, as close as two people could be, and yet Kumiko felt more distant than she'd been in a long time.
Entire Band Group Chat (bad idea)
Hazuki: okayyyy
Hazuki: i know we all decided to outlaw this group chat
Momo: For good reasons!
Hazuki: but this is the best way to get out the news to /everyone/!
Hazuki: so im holding a big party at my house two nights from now
Hazuki: since were all on break anyway
Hazuki: itll be really fun!
Hazuki: i hope you all can come
Hazuki: it starts at around 9
Shuichi: Who's coming?
Hazuki: i dunno
Hazuki: :p
Kumiko felt the phone trying to vibrate itself out of her pocket, taking it out after a few minutes of attempting to ignore it.
Kumiko: i'm going
Kumiko: reina is, too
She exhaled after sending the message, slumped over her desk.
Kumiko: we just need a ride
Kumiko: does anyone here have their license?
Nobody responded.
Kumiko spent most of the following day asleep, tucked beneath the soft covers of her bed as her phone beeped at random intervals.
"I should practice," she muttered to herself, even beginning to tear away the wonderful confines of the blankets, but she soon gave up and slid back under. "I've earned this, haven't I? We've all been working hard, Kansai's just a few weeks away, and I'm . . . bleh, I'm just tired." She saw a package wrapped in navy blue paper resting in the dead center of her room, and finally made it out of the bed to rip open the box.
To the weary one-
Well. You're going through things, aren't you? You're uncertain of where this is going. Everything makes you cautious, afraid of hurting the ones you love.
Kumiko stared at the paper with bleary eyes. They're not being very chipper, huh?
It's not my place to tell you not to worry. Not when the whole world's such an ugly place and being a teenage girl can be a weird, specific sort of hell.
The sun glared down through Kumiko's window, and she lazily dragged down her curtain with the letter still clutched in one hand.
But, that aside, you should still try to have fun! You're in the prime of your youth! Even if it's not the best part of you're life, isn't it bound to be one of the most interesting parts? Isn't it the time to make memories? You can't let that go to waste, no matter how afraid you are. I've given you something a bit pointless, a bit dumb, but I thought it was cute, and perhaps you'll like it too. Find a way to do something that'll make you happy.
~someone who cares just a little bit too much
Kumiko decided to pointedly ignore the ominous tone of the letter, some sort of warning about something she couldn't see. For a minute, she entertained herself with a fantasy of her caretaker being a fortune teller, a psychic, a witch. They'd look down from a crystal ball and whisper words of enchantment and the gifts would appear from a cloud of sparkling dust, alive until they tapped them with a well-worn wand.
Who are you? she thought to herself as she lifted up the present, a plastic box with a mechanical kitten peeking out of it. Why are you doing this?
The next day was spent in a similar manner, though interspersed with texts to the band's group chat and to Reina. Kumiko hugged the plastic toy to her chest, its sharp corners prodding her arms.
Kumiko: hey
Kumiko: reina
Kumiko: it's noon
Kumiko: i guess you already know that, though
Kumiko: heh
Kumiko: anyway
Her fingers hovered over the glowing keyboard, trying to figure out what to say next.
Kumiko: i still haven't been able to find us a ride
Kumiko: for the party i mean
Kumiko: we might have to miss it
Reina: Did you ask your mother?
Kumiko: yep, she has the business thing tonight, just like i thought
Kumiko: everyone else is busy with something else
Kumiko: and i couldn't ask natsuki
Reina: Why not?
Kumiko: even if she has her license, she's probably really worried about kansai
Reina: Right.
Reina: Well, I'm heading over to your house at the moment.
Kumiko: okay
She'd heard of people staring at screens like dimwits, but she had never felt so much like one until now.
Kumiko: wait
Kumiko: what?!
Reina: Would you mind if I brought my trumpet along?
Reina: I need to do it some more before the practices start up again.
Kumiko: ...
Kumiko: sure?
Kumiko: the party's not for another nine hours, reina
Kumiko: and we still don't have someone to drive us
Kumiko: do you really want to spend that much time around me?
Reina: I'm boarding the train now.
Reina: I'll see you in about half an hour.
Kumiko set down the phone ad promptly screamed into her pillow.
"God, what does she want? Why couldn't I have fallen for someone less confusing? Someone less perfect?"
"Kumiko?" her mother called. "Is everything alright?"
"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Kumiko looked back at the floor, and in a slightly quieter voice, she lamented, "I don't know why she's been acting like this! We kissed at the competition! We've been holding hands like it's not big deal for over a year now! When's she going to say something about it?! I don't understand her!" She smacked herself in the face with the pillow, glaring at it like it was the root of all her problems. "I don't understand! I don't understand!"
Reina: The train's delayed.
Reina: It might take a bit longer than expected.
"I don't know what her deal is!"
Reina: It's coming now.
"I don't know why she won't just talk to me about it!"
Reina: I've stepped off, I think it'll take me about fifteen minutes to reach your apartment.
"I thought the confusing bits were over!"
Reina: I'm here.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
By the time the doorbell rang, Kumiko had yelled out her frustrations and laid on her back, chest heaving. She pulled herself up slowly and made her way to the door, greeting Reina as if she was not hopelessly in love with her and did not desperately want to just talk to her.
"Is it alright if we go to your room?" Reina asked. Kumiko nodded, and the two headed back into the bedroom where she'd lamented her feelings just a few minutes prior. Reina's trumpet case, still shining and new, swung at her side. "We could watch something, if you want. We have time."
"What would you want to watch?"
"Maybe some kind of fun romcom? Something pretty dumb and cute. Or m-maybe the one based on that book I was reading, I've heard it's amazing."
"I wouldn't mind that." It was a simple conversation, one any couple could have had, and for just a moment Kumiko could pretend everything was normal, that she wasn't caught in some kind of odd quasi-relationship where the girl she loved (the girl who loved her, if mountaintop confessions were any indicator) wouldn't let herself say the words out loud, wouldn't call this what it was. Kumiko booted up her laptop, let the whirring of the machine calm her, while Reina sat down on her springy bed. "Your room's nice."
"You've been here before," Kumiko chuckled. "You don't have to say it every time, y'know."
"It is, though. It's . . . homey. Lived-in."
"I guess it is." The two girls looked up at the yellow ceiling. "I think some people would rather call it a mess, though."
"There's no reason it can't be both. Those two things blur into each other, don't you think?" The mattress was hardly big enough for the two of them, nothing at all like Reina's bed fit for a queen and fitted with satin.
"Just like those movies," Kumiko murmured.
"Hmm?"
"N-nothing!" The computer finished loading, and Kumiko rested it on her stomach. The opening credits began to roll just as Reina nestled herself in the crook of Kumiko's neck.
Kumiko would've liked to fall asleep like this, curled up with Reina in her arms as the movie puttered along in the background, but it was far too captivating for her to do that. She couldn't tear her eyes away, not for a second, even while Reina's warm weight rested comfortably against her.
"That was beautiful," she whispered when the final scene had ended, wiping her eyes. Reina stirred, and Kumiko couldn't - wouldn't - say anything when she saw that her cheeks were streaked with tears.
"It was," she said, sounding like her breath had been stolen away. "It really was, Kumiko."
"I can't believe we're going to have to cancel on poor Hazuki," Kumiko sighed later that evening, when the sun had long since disappeared and the moon had just started to climb above the clouds. She could hear her mother preparing for some meeting she didn't care about in the other room. "I was kinda looking forward to it, too. I know, it's dumb, right? It was just a stupid party, but I figured it'd be fun to j-just . . . let go, I guess. To stop caring for a little while, just hanging out with the band and stuff."
"It's not dumb." Reina clutched a fistful of Kumiko's downy rug, nearly tearing away the feather-like cloth. Kumiko hoped she wouldn't tear it apart right there on the spot. "It's not. We're going to make it there, somehow."
"I tried everyone, Reina." Reina seemed to deflate, as if she hadn't considered that before, though Kumiko knew she had. "They're all-"
"Hey, did someone call a chauffeur?" Kumiko sat straight up. Reina stood, like she was caught in a trance. The door creaked open, and Kumiko could hear her mother exchanging pleasantries with someone she knew.
"Ah, you're . . . Nakagawa-san, right?"
"That's me." Kumiko and Reina peeked out the door, heads stacked on top of each other like they were an old cartoon. Natsuki stood in the doorway, her familiar crooked smirk a welcome sight. "Your daughter and her . . . friend needed a ride to a little thing one of our friends is holding, it's gonna be really tame, no drinking or anything."
"You're a little young, aren't you?" Kumiko could feel herself dying of secondhand embarrassment.
"I've got my license, if ya want to see it. Otherwise, I think I'll be taking these two lovely ladies off your hands for a couple of hours."
"Oh, well, if you absolutely stay safe under all circumstances, I suppose I'll allow it. Text me when you get there, Kumiko, okay?" Kumiko nodded and gave her mother a quick hug and a goodbye before Natsuki took both second-years down the hallway.
"You could've given me a bit more warning, y'know," Natsuki sighed, putting a rough hand on Kumiko's shoulder. "I didn't really sign up for this surprise driver job, but ya kept asking people for rides on that damnable group chat that I couldn't really refuse. That's what friends do, right?"
"Thank you, Nakagawa-senpai," Reina murmured respectfully. Natsuki lightly punched her in the shoulder.
"No need to thank me, Kousaka. Lighten up, will ya? We're supposed to leave all our worries behind or whatever. I don't really get it, but leaving behind worries seems like a pretty damn good thing to do right around now." Natsuki scratched the back of her neck, looking like she was in a better mood than Kumiko had seen her in for a long time. "The truck's parked out in the front. It's no limo, but it'll do." Reina looked nervously back and forth.
"We were pretty lucky, huh?" Kumiko whispered to her as Natsuki clambered into the driver's seat.
"We were," Reina whispered back. "Are you sure she can drive, though?" The truck rattled to life, and Natsuki let out a whoop.
"She's fine, Reina. I'll call shotgun, if it makes you feel better. I've heard that the backseat's a lot safer." Reina nodded with such vigor that Kumiko was surprised her neck didn't snap in two. "Okay, I call shotgun!" Natsuki fondly patted the seat beside her, and Kumiko hopped in. Reina awkwardly crept into the back and strapped herself into the seat. "When did you get your license, Natsuki?" Natsuki turned on the radio and started to back out of the building's parking lot before answering.
"Just last month. I had to do something to get the prez out of my head, y'know? So, I thought 'why not do something useful?' And here I am, with a driver's license to my name and all the open roads to explore."
"That was . . . poetic," Reina said. Natsuki shrugged.
"You haven't lived until you've stuck your head out the window like in the movies. When someone else is driving, of course, but actually being behind the wheel is a pretty similar feeling." Natsuki gripped the steering wheel in both hands as the town lights blinked by. It was a lovely night, Kumiko could see that from her spot in the passenger's seat, but Natsuki remained focused on the road.
"R-right." Kumiko fiddled with the dials of the radio, switching it from a pop song she'd heard a thousand times before to the tail end of a rock ballad. "Speaking of which, is everything . . . okay?" Natsuki held onto the steering wheel tighter, if that was possible.
"I'm fine," she finally said after an agonizing few seconds of silence. Her grip on the wheel relaxed a bit. "Don't start doting on me, alright? Momo's already got her hands full with that job, as much as I tell her not to worry about it. We're going to a party, Kumiko! We'll all have fun and goof off and forget our troubles." Natsuki sped up the truck just a bit after a red light turned green.
"Yep. I'll, uh, try to remember that." Kumiko straightened her back and felt the rough faux leather of the seat brush up against her.
"Hey, Kousaka, how're ya holding up back there?"
"I'm fine," Reina said plainly. "You're a good driver."
"Thanks." Natsuki didn't take her eyes off the road in front of her. "Hey, we're almost here! I'll drop you two off at the front and swing around the block to find parking, if that's okay?"
"Yeah." Kumiko started to unbuckle her seatbelt as Hazuki's house came into view. "Sounds good." The truck sputtered to a stop, and Kumiko got out just a few seconds before Reina did.
"I'll see you two in a few minutes!" Natsuki called before the truck rumbled away again. Kumiko rang the doorbell nervously, with Reina close behind. Hazuki swung the door open hardly a second later, ushering the two of them in, and the sight that Kumiko was greeted with was something she thought she'd carry with her for a good few decades.
It wasn't many people - Kumiko counted maybe thirty - but half of them were practically bouncing off the walls, turning up the old stereo until the sound crackled, dancing like nobody was watching.
(People were watching, and they looked ridiculous, but Kumiko wasn't about to say that)
"Are you, uh, s-sure that you didn't bring any alcohol?" she asked. Hazuki waved her off with a grin.
"Nah, of course not! I may have put out the red cups without saying anything about what was in them, though." Kumiko looked out at the crowd again.
"So . . . they think they're drunk?"
"Bingo!" Hazuki chirped, in English. Kumiko felt a strange pang in her chest.
"I'm surprised she never threw one of these," she murmured. Hzuki blinked.
"Who?"
"Asuka-senpai. I guess she was too busy with her work, though."
"Yeah, yeah, she would've thrown something great. But she's gone now, and you need to go have fun!" Hazuki promptly shoved Kumiko into the center of the makeshift "dance floor," an old carpet duct-taped to the floor beneath it. She bobbed up and down slightly, nervously watching the others for some kind of signal. There wasn't one. Eventually, she gave up and just started swaying from side to side like she was a small tree in the breeze, still held by braces to stop itself from falling down. She didn't even really notice when her feet started doing things she didn't understand and she was rubbed up against people she hardly ever talked to, friends of friends and strangers she'd seen in passing.
"You're here!" Kumiko bumped into someone and looked down to see Midori, with the widest smile on her face she'd ever seen. "It's amazing, isn't it? This is how music should make people feel, like they can do anything!" She skipped away, and Kumiko watched her disappear back into the cluster of students.
"This is . . . nice." Reina appeared behind her like a phantom of some sort, clutching one of the cups in her hand. "They all seem to be having fun, at least."
"W-would you want to, uh, y'know . . ." Kumiko lamely gestured to the groups of people dancing. "Together?"
"I have no idea what you just said," Reina deadpanned. The song on the stereo had switched to something old-timey and soft, and the students slowed their movements in time with it.
"It's nothing," Kumiko mumbled. "D-don't worry about it."
"In that case, I'm going to find a balcony where I can get some fresh air. Katou-san's house is a bit . . . stuffy, when there are about forty people crammed into it." Kumiko looked around, and sure enough, more students had joined the party, some of them she didn't even recognize.
Are they all from the band? She banished the thought from her mind as she watched Reina creep up the stairs and disappear behind a corridor. Kumiko wondered, idly, why Reina had even wanted to go to this party if she didn't seem to be having a good time at all, if she was simply waiting for an escape. Her thoughts were interrupted, rather rudely, when Nozomi and Mizore both bumped into her as they cut through the dance floor hurriedly.
"Sorry!" they both blurted out. Nozomi's ponytail was undone, and Mizore's scarf was tied at an awkward angle, and Kumiko decided not to think about what they had been doing prior to this escape.
"Hey, I'm here! Geez, the parking out there frickin' sucks!" Natsuki burst through the door with her hands in the air.
"Natsuki-senpai!" Hazuki yelled. "C'mon, join us!" Kumiko froze.
"Having fun, Kumiko?" Natsuki asked. Kumiko slowly nodded, blinking to get Hazuki's badly-timed words out of her head. "Where's Kousaka?"
"I don't know. She went out to get some fresh air."
"Well, she needs to get here soon, or else she'll miss Spin the Bottle!" Midori squeaked, holding up an empty bottle with a half-peeled label on it.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to play something like that when most of the band is girls?" Hazuki whispered to Midori. Natsuki snorted.
"Are you sure it's not?" she said. Reina reached the bottom of the stairs just as the song switched again to something Kumiko might've heard years and years ago.
"What are we doing?" Reina asked.
"Spin the Bottle!" Midori squeaked, though whether it was a general announcement or an answer, Kumiko couldn't tell. "Anyone who wants to play it, head over to the fancy carpet!" About half of the party shuffled to the carpet, whispering amongst themselves, and Kumiko reluctantly followed, and Reina reluctantly followed her. "Now, I'm guessing you all know the rules of this game?" Midori was talking like a hammy radio announcer, but her voice had a certain charm to it that made Kumiko smile.
"I'll go first!" the percussionist first-year boy who had been the first to join the club early that year raised his hand. Midori handed him the bottle gravely, as if he was about to choose someone's death sentence. The bottle landed on a second-year clarinet who Kumiko had talked to maybe twice, and as the two of them politely kissed on the cheek, she knew that the game had truly begun.
Several rounds later, Hazuki took the bottle into shaky hands and closed her eyes as it spun. Her whispers of please be Shuichi please be Shuichi please be Shuichi weren't lost on anyone, though Shuichi hadn't even decided to go to the party. The bottle slowed and pointed directly at Natsuki. Hazuki opened one eye and promptly flinched.
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Natsuki said. "I won't mind." Hazuki tapped her foot like an impatient rabbit.
"It won't make me gay, right? If I kiss you?"
"It wouldn't be making you gay, ya know. If you like it, you're probably not straight. I'd just be the enabler, the conductor, whatever. But I completely get it if-" Natsuki couldn't even finish her sentence before Hazuki grabbed her face and kissed her like it was the end of the world. A few students cheered. Natsuki drew back with her cheeks dusted a light pink and her mouth agape. "Wow." Hazuki sat back with the expression of someone who had just been pleasantly tranquilizer.
"I'm going to think about some things," she mumbled shakily before she stood up and walked out the back door.
"I think we broke her," Natsuki said. "Kawashima, d'you think you could . . . go out and make sure she's okay?"
"Hazuki-chan likes thinking about this stuff on her own," Midori squeaked, having lost her radio announcer voice. "I think she'd want us to keep on having fun at her party." Natsuki nodded sagely. Reina squirmed in her spot next to Kumiko. "So, who's next?" Kumiko looked to the empty spot beside her, and realized with a jolt that it was her.
"Uh, it's . . . me? I-if you want to do someone else, that's fine-" Midori all but flung the bottle at her. She spun it and watched each turn as the circle did the same, Hazuki slowly creeping back into the house from the back porch, until it landed directly next to her. Reina's breaths became shorter and faster, while the band started to grin.
"I can't believe your luck!" Hazuki cheered, though Kumiko heard an odd wavering in her voice. "You and Kousaka-san, together again!"
"It's the red string of fate!" Midori squealed. Reina's face had been drained of any color, and she started to stand up and walk away as if in a trance. "Kousaka-san?" Reina broke into a run and pushed open the door. Kumiko ran after her while the rest of the band looked to each other for some explanation, but there was none, because there had never been one and Kumiko knew that all too well.
"Reina!" she yelled, her voice hoarse, with the light from the open door casting her in a strange spotlight. Reina stopped in her tracks and spun around. She was trembling. "Please, j-just tell me what's going on!" Reina didn't answer. "What's going on, Reina? Why're you acting like this?" Kumiko had, of course, heard the phrase "the wind howled," but she'd never quite felt it until now. "Tell me, please!"
"When we get back," Reina said, finally. "When practice starts up again, I'll tell you then." She turned around and walked away until she'd blended in with the murky colors of the night, and Kumiko was left alone.
a/n: *cheesy tv announcer voice* next week on year two...kumiko finally gets answers
