a/n: wow this chapter turned out longer than expected
The weather was nearly freezing nowadays, Kumiko noticed, as she walked to work tightly bundled in her coat. The cheap gloves she had bought were already beginning to wear themselves thin, and she could see her breath puffing in front of her like a tiny cloud. The trees were almost completely bare, with only a few crinkled leaves hanging on in the wind. I wonder if it'll snow soon, she thought, approaching the Euphonium's storefront. That'd be nice. Maybe I could go sledding with Reina, and we could catch snowflakes on our tongues and watch cheesy movies together on the couch while the snowflakes fell outside. She walked inside and gave a small wave to Hazuki and Midori, who were already polishing the counter and counting the money in the cash register.
"Hi, Kumiko!" Hazuki called, still wearing that false grin she had stubbornly refused to drop ever since the night of the festival. Kumiko and Midori had tried to talk to her about it, but she seemed to wither every time Shuichi was brought up, so they eventually let the subject rest. "It sure is getting cold, huh? My fingers were about to freeze off this morning!"
"I hope Tuba-kun's staying somewhere warm," Midori murmured, pulling one of the crumpled LOST CAT posters from her bag and looking at it longingly. "Didn't Miss Kousaka find her cat in the snow as a kitten? The one that ran away?"
"Yeah, I think so." Kumiko had committed every second of the festival to memory - after all, it had been the beginning of the greatest time of her life, she didn't want to forget a single part of it. It had been a fairly important time for all of them, she supposed, even if it wasn't a good experience for some - she looked over at Hazuki's plastic smile as she carefully smoothed out bills and placed them back in the cash register.
"I just hope Tuba-kun's being safe," Midori continued. "I've been looking for more than a month now, but I haven't even found a pawprint. What if Tuba-kun's hurt, or scared, or worse?"
"Tuba-kun's fine," Kumiko and Hazuki both said in unison. It had become clockwork at this point, an automatic response, and Kumiko was beginning to get a bit tired of it. She knew that it would've been hard for the cat to survive on its own for this long, and she was afraid that the reassurance would someday turn to lies.
"Hey, Kumiko, isn't that your friend?" Hazuki said, pointing towards the door. Midori had kept her knowledge to herself, and Hazuki had remained oblivious. Reina walked inside with her usual air of elegance, stopping at the counter to smile at Kumiko before handing her the usual crumpled wad of bills. Her soft hands, still covered by the gloves, brushed against Kumiko's before she stood back and waited. Kumiko quickly prepared the mocha and handed it to Reina after scribbling a quick message on it. It had become somewhat of a game between the two of them, writing notes on coffee cups.
meet me at the park at 12?
Reina nodded and gave her a wink, taking the coffee into her hands and walking away. Kumiko waved, and Reina returned the gesture with her free hand.
"She's been hanging around here a lot, huh?" Hazuki commented once Reina was out of sight. Midori remained silent - she had kept her knowledge to herself, much to Kumiko's relief. Her relationship with Reina wasn't a secret, not exactly, but there were a few people whom the two had figured would be better off not knowing. Reina's parents, the college, and Hazuki were among them.
"She's a close friend," Kumiko simply replied. A group of people, presumably teenagers, every single one of them shrouded in hoodies, shuffled over to the counter, effectively interrupting the conversation.
"We'll take five espressos," one of them said in a dark, gravelly voice.
"They match our souls," another added. The three baristas stared at the teenagers in confusion.
"Uh, sure," Kumiko mumbled, preparing the drinks along with Hazuki and Midori as she continued to carefully watch the teenagers.
"Thank you, ma'am," the teenagers said dryly in unison when they received the espressos, leaving a strangely generous tip. The small group shuffled away.
"What was that about?" Midori whispered. Kumiko shrugged.
"Oh, you know kids these days," Hazuki sighed. "They're always trying to be cool, trying to do something different."
"You're talking like an old lady," Midori squeaked. "You're the same age as we are."
"I guess, but it is easy to feel old when you've got weird kids like that ordering espressos all the time," Hazuki explained. "There are people our age going through college right now!" Kumiko immediately thought of Reina and checked her phone for the time.
8:52. That's just about three more hours. I just have to get through three hours of weird teenagers and espressos and then I'll be at the park with Reina.
"Is there something you're waiting for, Kumiko?" Hazuki asked, peering over her shoulder. Kumiko shoved the phone back into her pocket.
"N-nope!" she yelped. "I was, uh, just trying to figure out if those kids should already be at school or not. I wouldn't want to be responsible for a bunch of teenagers being late for class, y'know?" Hazuki narrowed her eyes, her plastic smile faltering for a moment, but she quickly returned to her usual expression.
"Well, if that's all it is, I won't pry," she said, going back to polishing the counter.
What's up with her? Kumiko wondered. She's been jumpy all day. The thought didn't last for long, however, after a businessman approached the counter and requested some hot tea.
Finally, after what felt like years, noon arrived, and Kumiko quickly explained that she was going to spend her break outside.
"The weather's really nice today, so I, uh, I figured that I'd just take a walk for a little while, y'know?" she said, packing her bag and hanging up her apron. Midori gave her a wink.
"It's freezing outside," Hazuki responded. Kumiko stiffened.
"W-well, uh, I actually really like the cold, so-"
"Are you sure you're not seeing someone else?"
"Huh?" Crap, Midori must've told her about Reina. That would explain why she's been acting like this all day. I guess I should just come clean and-
"Kumiko, do you have feelings for Shuichi?"
"What?"
"I know you, Kumiko. You've been dancing around for the past few weeks, always humming to yourself and checking your phone. I know love when I see it! And the most likely culprit here, of course, is our recommendations friend Mr. Tsukamoto. I'll bet that you just didn't tell us to spare my feelings, right?" Midori looked like she was about to slam her face on the counter.
"Hazuki, I don't even know where to begin, I can guarantee you that-" Kumiko was blissfully interrupted by the familiar chiming bell. Reina stood in the doorway, her hand tightly clutching her trumpet case. Kumiko and Midori both breathed a sigh of relief. Kumiko dashed through the coffeeshop and resisted the urge to jump into Reina's arms.
"Oh, so you're just going with your friend?" Hazuki said. "Why didn't you just say so in the first place?" Kumiko didn't even answer her.
"You wouldn't believe how glad I am to see you," she whispered, turning to Reina. Reina quietly wrapped her hand around Kumiko's, the warmth still radiating from her gloves.
"I'll see you later, Kumiko!" Midori squeaked. Kumiko gave her a small wave before walking outside, hand-in-hand with Reina.
"We're going to the park, then?" Reina asked, keeping her hand intertwined with Kumiko's.
"Yep." Clouds hung overhead, casting the vibrant city's colors in muted grays, but Kumiko and Reina hardly noticed in their bubble of stars. Kumiko felt warm, despite the biting cold.
"Why did you choose the park?" Kumiko shrugged.
"It's kinda peaceful," she replied. "There aren't really too many people who'd go outside in weather like this, y'know? We'll be able to talk without anyone bothering us, I guess." Reina paused for a moment.
"That makes sense," she finally said before continuing along the sidewalk.
"Anyway, how's college?"
"It's fine, I suppose." Reina looked down. "There isn't anything out of the ordinary, to be honest. It's becoming monotonous and exhausting, if you want the truth, but I have to keep on doing it."
"If you don't like it, then why're you still going?"
"I have to."
"Why?"
"To become special. The orchestras won't accept someone without a college degree, so I have to keep my grades up."
"I-isn't that hard, though? Practicing the trumpet on top of schoolwork and sleep and . . ."
"Hmm?"
". . . and me?" Reina reassuringly squeezed Kumiko's hand.
"You're not a burden, Kumiko," she said, looking directly into Kumiko's eyes as her voice hardened. "You're not. Promise me you won't think like that again."
"Reina, I-"
"'Promise.'"
"I promise," Kumiko sighed. Reina softly smiled. "Anyway, it looks like we're here." The park was spread out in front of the two, nearly empty save for an elderly couple leaning against each other on a bench. Reina suddenly gave a coy smirk before letting go of Kumiko's hand and dashing for a nearby hill, gently sloping next to the children's jungle gyms. Kumiko ran after her, savoring the feeling of the sharp wind catching in her throat as she laughed. Reina jumped over the short wooden barrier separating the playground from the hill, rolling down the slope with a grin spread across her face. Kumiko followed suit, leaping down to roll along with Reina. The two girls soon found themselves lying at the foot of the hill in the frost-tipped grass, out of breath from the running and laughing. Reina's glossy hair was spread out underneath her as she moved to hold Kumiko's hand again.
"I haven't been here since I was a kid," she panted, still trying to catch her breath.
"You're fast, Reina," Kumiko said, wiping the sweat from her brow. She turned to the girl lying next to her, blissfully smiling in a way Kumiko had never seen before. "You've got a nice smile, too." Reina's ears turned red. Kumiko chuckled. Reina abruptly changed the subject.
"The grass is pretty, hmm?" Reina sat up and looked down at the distinctively human-shaped green silhouette she had created, surrounded by white tips of grass all across the field.
"Yeah," Kumiko murmured. "It's kinda sparkly, almost like something out of a fairytale." Reina laid back down, resting her head in the crook of Kumiko's neck.
"I wonder what the first people who wrote fairy tales were thinking when they wrote them," Reina mused, slipping off her gloves and moving a hand up to brush Kumiko's cheek.
"They probably liked the idea of some other world, one that was better than theirs," Kumiko replied, snuggling closer.
"The idea of a world beyond our own is a nice one, isn't it? Dragons, knights, magic . . ."
"True love."
"It's all very idealistic, don't you think? The people who wrote the fairy tales, they wanted something different from what they had, from where they were. So they made it up. That's how people escape from reality, they make things up and lose themselves in what they feel passionate about."
"Is that what you do?"
"What?"
"With the trumpet, I mean." Kumiko gestured to the instrument case lying a few inches away.
"It's not that I try to lose myself, exactly . . ."
"What is it, then?"
"I want to become special, by any means necessary." Reina became rigid for a moment - a movement that Kumiko could acutely feel with the closeness between them. "The trumpet - it's a way to achieve that goal, and I'm good at it. Becoming special, or the idea of it, anyway, that's the most important thing."
"You're special to me," Kumiko murmured. Reina's body relaxed as she let out a chuckle, a gentle sound that felt completely right amid the serenity of the park and the frosted grass.
"That's probably the cheesiest thing you've said," she laughed, moving her other hand up Kumiko's face and pulling her in for a kiss.
"That 'is' saying something, considering how much of a sap I am for lines like that," Kumiko said between kisses, smiling widely. "It must be those movies I used to watch all the time with Natsuki. You wouldn't believe how awful the dialogue could be for those things."
"I watched those kinds of movies at school when I was younger, I think I get it."
"You keep on talking about stuff that happened when you were younger - do you miss it?"
"Hmm?" Reina's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Do you miss your childhood?"
"I guess. We all miss our childhoods, though. It's simpler when you don't understand anything, when parents and teachers are there to give all of the answers. There wasn't really anything particularly desirable about my childhood - nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. I was raised in a nice house, with a nice family, and I wanted to be something more ever since I was a child." Kumiko chuckled at the thought of a young Reina already playing the trumpet, announcing her goals to a room full of stuffed animals. "Do you? Miss your childhood, I mean."
"A lot, actually." Kumiko plucked at one of the blades of grass - it reminded her of the familiar frayed thread on the couch back at the apartment. "I mean, it's so much easier, y'know? There's no pressure for you to get a job, or go to college, or have any kind of future. The future's the thing that scares me the most, honestly."
"Why?"
"I don't have any goals. I don't have anywhere I want to be. I'm working a minimum wage job and at this point I'm pretty sure I'm going to be working there forever. It's kinda scary. T-that was why I got sorta freaked out in the diner when you started talking about defining our relationship and stuff. I don't know how the future's going to go, but it's usually pretty intimidating. My roommate thinks that she knows how this is all going to turn out, and sometimes I think that she's right."
"You can't let her get into your head, Kumiko."
"It's not her fault. All of these insecurities and stuff - they're already there, she's just trying to keep me safe in this weird, convoluted way."
"Why does she act like she's so sure of everything?" Kumiko looked around and noticed that more people had gathered around the park.
"I can't tell you here," she whispered. "I'll explain everything later."
"That's understandable."
"A-anyway, it's not like she's entirely wrong. I don't know what I'm going to do in the future, Reina. When I was younger . . . when I realized I liked girls . . . I guess I knew that things would be harder. But the thing is, I've never had a real relationship before, not before this. It's kinda sad, huh? I'm already in my twenties and I'm still acting like a blushing little kid without any idea of where we're supposed to go from here. I've never really wanted a 'normal' life, anyway - two kids, picket fence, a dog and a car - none of that sounded all that great to me. You probably don't want that either, do you?"
"You're right. I don't."
"S-so what are we supposed to do now? What's our future going to be like, Reina? Are we going to get our fairytale in the end?" Reina plucked a frost-tipped strand of grass from the field and held it up before blowing it away.
"I don't know," she began. "But, I think that this, right here, right now, this isn't quite as horrible as the fairytales would make you believe."
They remained in the grass for several minutes, with Reina still resting on Kumiko's shoulder as the two girls listened to each other's breaths, calm and safe in the frosty park.
Kumiko groaned when she heard her phone buzz, knowing all too well who it was.
Hazuki: kumiko!
Hazuki: whatre you even doing with ur friend?
Hazuki: we need you back here
Hazuki: plz
Hazuki: soon
Hazuki: :)
"Does the other barista ever text you?" Reina inquired, looking at the messages displayed. "The smaller one who was worried about a cat at the festival."
"Midori? She does sometimes, but not really all that often. Hazuki's the one who likes texting people, Midori really only uses it when she needs to. Anyway, I guess that means I have to go now."
"I'd better get going back to college, then." Reina stood up and offered Kumiko a hand, brushing off any blades of grass that had stuck to her coat. Kumiko joined her, and the two girls walked away from the park in the chilly weather, holding hands once again.
The rest of the day passed without much interest, as customers came in and out of the coffeeshop with their usual frequency.
"We're going to get a lot more people soon," Hazuki commented, watching a family of rambunctious children leave through the door. "It's getting really cold, so more people are going to want our warm coffee."
"That will be good for business," Midori squeaked. "I don't really know how well we're doing, since any boss we have hasn't exactly made themselves known, but more people is always good!"
"Am I the only one's who's weirded out by the fact that we don't have any superiors, though?" Kumiko added. "I mean, where are we getting our paychecks? Who's supplying the milk and syrup and beans and stuff?"
"It doesn't really matter," Midori said. "It's a job, and it's a pretty good job, too. I wouldn't care if our boss turned out to just be a bunch of cats in a trenchcoat. That'd be really cute, actually. Maybe Tuba-kun could join them." Hazuki looked down, her smile faltering as she put a hand on Midori's shoulder.
"Midori, I think that it's safe to say that at this point, Tuba-kun's probably-"
"Fine, Tuba-kun's probably fine, right, Hazuki?" Kumiko didn't know what had come over her - she was supposed to be the one grounding the other baristas to reality, not keeping up false hope for Midori's cat. I guess love really does make you do crazy stuff, huh?
"You think so, Kumiko?" Midori sniffed. Kumiko nodded.
"I'm sure Tuba-kun's doing perfectly fine outside in the city, don't worry." Hazuki shot Kumiko a quizzical look before greeting an eager team of elementary school students as the teacher explained that they were not allowed to have coffee at any cost.
Natsuki was slumped on the couch when Kumiko came back to the apartment - she hardly sat in her chair anymore - and only gave a grunt to acknowledge the other girl's presence.
"How was your day?" Kumiko asked, awkwardly crouching on one of the arms of the couch so not to disturb Natsuki.
"What, no ramblings about umbrella girl?" Kumiko glared at her. "Kidding, kidding. Well, it wasn't actually too bad, for once."
"What happened?"
"Remember that girl from the festival?"
"There were lots of girls at the festival, Natsuki."
"The one who tagged along with us, with the bow and a weird obsession with some college student."
"Right, her."
"Well, she called me today." Natsuki's voice took on a high-pitched tone as she mimicked Yuuko. "'I don't know if you have any kind of obligation or anything, but if you don't, I wouldn't mind 'hanging out' with you tomorrow while I wait for Kaori to finish studying for her midterms.' If ya want the truth, making it obvious that you're someone's second choice while trying to ask them out is a pretty dumb strategy, but, hey, what do I know?" Natsuki chuckled. Kumiko could see the dark circles hanging under her eyes. "Anyway, she sounds okay, and I haven't really been out of the apartment for a while, so I figured I'd go. Don't sneak umbrella girl in here while I'm gone, okay?"
"I won't."
"Got it. Now, it's getting kinda late, so maybe ya should-"
"It's six-thirty."
"Fair point."
"I know that it's Wednesday, but do you think we could maybe have a movie night?"
"Sorry, can't." Natsuki shrugged.
"Why not?"
"We had an irregular movie night last month, remember? Can't screw up the schedule too much, otherwise the only stable thing in our lives is gonna get thrown out the window. Maybe you should just get more rest than usual. Ya keep on waking up in the middle of the night and shaking, it's sorta unsettling. I read somewhere that it's a symptom of sleep deprivation."
"Fine."
It didn't seem like extra sleep had any effect on the strangeness of Kumiko's dreams. She was in an old house, shadowed in hues of purple as various furniture items disappeared without warning. She wasn't alone - Reina stood at the top of the first staircase, practically glowing in her white dress against the purple backdrop. Kumiko scrambled up the stairs to greet her, but she turned the corner and dashed up another flight of stairs. It looked like she was floating, and Kumiko figured that she probably was. It was a dream, and most things were better left unquestioned in dreams. Reina's floating wasn't the only peculiar part - the rooms of the purple mansion didn't seem to be changing, despite the fact that Kumiko must've run up at least ten flights of stairs by now, and the furniture kept on disappearing. Finally, after what felt like an eternity (or perhaps merely a single second), the two girls found themselves standing on the roof, underneath a magnificent star-filled sky.
"Reina?" Kumiko whispered. Reina - or the dream-version of her, in any case, slowly turned around, still glowing against the stars.
"We could stay here forever," the dream-Reina murmured, taking Kumiko's hand into her own as her voice rang out loud and clear, in that way voices can only do when someone is dreaming. "It would be peaceful, wouldn't it? Just the two of us."
"I'd like that more than anything," Kumiko said, and it was all so clear and so real. Reina suddenly turned away.
"I'm sorry, Kumiko."
"W-what?" The dream-Reina gave her one last look before leaping off of the roof. Kumiko raced after her, hardly even noticing the mansion disappearing until she was plunged into darkness.
Kumiko woke up gasping for breath, her bedsheets twisted as she looked around the room for any sense of familiarity. It was still dark outside, and Natsuki rolled over to face her.
"So, getting more sleep didn't really help, huh?" Kumiko shook her head. "Well, all ya can do is go back to sleep, I guess. Or ya could marathon Carmilla again like I did last year."
"You did that in the middle of the night after taking too much coffee from Euphonium's. You went back to bed mumbling about creampuffs and random historical dates."
"Kumiko, you were with me."
"Oh. Yeah. Right. Things get muddled in the middle of the night. We probably won't even remember this conversation in the morning."
"True enough. In any case, ya should get back to sleep. Even if it's some screwed-up dream about umbrella girl, at least you'll have enough sleep to function at work tomorrow."
Sure enough, Kumiko hardly remembered the dream and the conversation with Natsuki when the sun poked through the window. Natsuki merely grunted when Kumiko got out of bed, and she left the apartment feeling strangely tired.
It's going to snow soon, Kumiko thought as she walked the familiar route to Euphonium's, looking up at the barren trees hanging above her. I can smell it. She checked the weather on her phone. 30% chance of snow, read the screen. Huh.
True to Midori's predictions, the coffeeshop was unusually busy, filled with businesspeople and average citizens, all willing to pay for a short warm spell. Most of them stayed inside, typing away at laptops and reading newspapers. It felt cozy, as if this was what a local coffeeshop was supposed to be.
"You've never seen the place filled up like this, huh, Kumiko?" Hazuki chirped. Kumiko jumped.
"Uh, yeah, I guess not." That's right. I've only been working here since the spring, this is the first time I've seen it when it's really cold outside.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Midori added.
"Yeah." Kumiko smiled. Reina chose that moment to trot through the door, the bell's familiar chiming barely audible among the chatter of the Euphonium's customers.
"It's busy here," she noted, looking around at the people sitting at their tables. Kumiko was already preparing the drink, the motions as natural as the breath in her lungs. Reina dig through her bag for her money, accidentally sending a bundle of papers flying onto the floor. Kumiko rushed to her side, helping her pick up the papers. They were filled to the brim with complex notes detailing everything from mathematical equations to historical events written in neat, tiny script. Doodles of music notes dotted the edges, creating what Kumiko could only assume were complex symphonies.
"So, this is what college is like, then?" The barista hardly understood half of what was written on the notes. That's what you get for only having a high school education, smart-butt.
"I know, it's ridiculous." Reina scooped up a pile of notes and unceremoniously shoved them back into her purse. "You would think that they'd give you some kind of break, some time to catch your breath, but they don't."
"That sucks."
"It does."
"Hey, Kumiko, could you get back here?" Midori peered over the counter. "It's kind of overwhelming, working all of these customers by ourselves. We need all the help we can get."
"Right. Sorry." Kumiko stood up and walked back to the counter. Reina nodded in understanding and put away the rest of the notes before standing up as well. Kumiko finished the drink and handed it to her, still feeling that undeniable warmth when their hands touched, despite everything.
"I know that I should get going soon, but I wanted to ask you if you would like to go out for dinner on Friday. There's a restaurant that opened recently, and a lot of people from my college are saying that it's become a popular spot for couples."
"Couples?" Hazuki yelped. Midori quietly stepped on her foot.
"Y-yeah, that'd be great!" Kumiko answered. "I should probably get back to work now, but we can work out the details over text, okay?"
"I'll make sure to send you the information when I get home," Reina said, walking away with her drink in hand, the papers still sticking out of her bag.
Fancy dinner, huh? That'll be something.
The customers finally started to slow down as evening approached, much to the relief of the exhausted baristas. Kumiko was ready to fall asleep on the counter by the time the last family had left the coffeeshop, and it looked like Hazuki and Midori were, too.
"It would be nice if we had more than three employees here," Hazuki groaned, slumped over the cash register. "I mean, it's fine for most of the year, but this is ridiculous!"
"You can say that again," Midori sighed, pressing her face against the counter.
"I mean, it's fine for most of the ye-"
"She didn't mean it literally," Kumiko grunted. "That's the oldest line in the book."
"Anyway, we should all go back to our homes and take a nice, well-deserved rest," Hazuki decided.
"Agreed," Kumiko and Midori said in unison.
"Cold weather sucks," Kumiko announced as she walked into the apartment and promptly flung herself onto the bear. The couch was occupied by Natsuki, watching an old cartoon dance across the television screen.
"I thought that ya liked cold weather," she said, changing the channel to a thriller movie.
"It's not the weather that's bad, it's the people. You wouldn't believe how many customers we get when it's chilly outside. It feels nice at first, sure, but the magical cozy effect kinda wears off after a couple of hours."
"Yeah, I think I get it. Did anything else happen?"
"Reina asked me out to dinner. It's some fancy place and- oh, that reminds me, how was your date with the girl from the festival?"
"It went pretty well, actually. I don't know if she would've classified it as a date, though. I would definitely call it a date, but she just kept on going on and on about this Kaori gal. Ya should ask umbrella girl if she can just hook the two of them up, honestly. I don't remember much about Kaori from that one date, but she seemed nice enough."
"Reina told me that she doesn't really talk to the other people at her college."
"Of course she doesn't," Natsuki sighed. "Anyway, the date ended with her telling me that it was 'interesting enough for her to want to see me again,' so I guess it was actually a success?"
"That's great, I'm happy for you."
"Well, I'll talk with ya about the dangers of fancy dinners tomorrow, but right now ya just need to get to sleep. It's not even late, but you're exhausted." Kumiko nodded in agreement and stumbled to the bedroom, faceplanting onto her bed. She didn't dream of anything that night.
The air hung heavy as Kumiko walked the familiar road to Euphonium's under the murky clouds, the weight of the moleskine notebook giving her an odd feeling of comfort. Hazuki was working alone when she got there, polishing the counter with that fake, wide grin.
"Where's Midori?" Kumiko asked. The first customers were already filtering in, eyes bleary from lack of sleep. Hazuki shrugged.
"She sent me a text early this morning, just saying that she wouldn't be here today or tomorrow. I dunno what she's doing, though." There were already a dozen customers lining up for their drinks as they warmed themselves against the coffeeshop's heaters. Kumiko groaned.
"We're going to die, aren't we?"
Regardless of how many tips she received from the extra customers, Kumiko would've given anything for the normal crowd. More than once, she would find herself overwhelmed by the people, young and old, all clamoring for coffee or tea or hot chocolate or anything else, waving their money in the air like children in line for their school lunches. Hazuki seemed intimidated, too, frantically preparing drinks as she reassured the customers that everything was on its way. Kumiko was ready to collapse by the time her break came around. She idly checked her phone, slumped over a free table she had managed to snag. A stack of new messages greeted her.
Reina: I found the directions to the restaurant.
Reina: It's walking distance from here, as long as you don't mind walking for a few miles.
Reina: _
Kumiko tapped on the link to the directions, reading about the restaurant as she drowned out the babble of the coffeeshop. It seems fancy, she thought. I shouldn't be surprised, really. Of course Reina would be into fancy places like this, with their upperclassmen and multiple forks and puffy dresses. Crap, I haven't been to anything like this in forever. I don't know what these things are like! Crap, what if I mess up, what if I don't wear the right thing, what if I-
"Kumiko?" Hazuki tapped her on the shoulder. "Sorry, our break's over. We can't risk losing more customers. I'm sure that whoever you were talking to yourself about would understand." Kumiko sighed and went back to her post, shoving the phone back into her pocket. It didn't look like Reina was going to be coming that day. The customers immediately started yelling for the attention of the two baristas, nearly pushing each other over. Kumiko took a deep breath and slammed her hand on the counter.
"Okay, everyone," she began, struggling to be heard over the chaos. Geez, what happened to the nice coziness and all that crap? 'Holiday spirit,' my butt. "I know that we all want our warm drinks, but-"
"Actually, I just wanted an ice water," someone commented in the back.
"Anyway, we still have to remain calm and civilized. We're taking one customer at a time, got it?" The crowd gave a collective sigh before reluctantly agreeing and shuffling into something vaguely resembling a line. "Good. Now, everyone will get served in fair time."
Reina didn't show up until later in the afternoon, barely visible behind the masses of customers. Kumiko suddenly realized just how small she was - her presence was so regal, so commanding, that it made Kumiko forget that she was actually several inches taller than her.
"Wow, she's even showing up today?" Hazuki whispered, pointing to Reina. "You'd think that someone like her would just find another coffeeshop or something." Kumiko raised an eyebrow.
"Someone like her?" she repeated. Hazuki nodded.
"You know, the college type. Smart, rich, kinda snooty, doesn't have too much time for us common folk. She seems pretty nice, though."
"Reina's not-"
"Kitauji isn't an easy place to get into, Kumiko. She must be working herself to the bone nowadays, poor thing, what with the midterms coming up and all." Kumiko looked over at Reina again. She did have an air of tiredness about her, weakly pawing through her purse for money as she held her trumpet case under her arm. The line moved along at an excruciatingly slow pace, and Kumiko nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Reina finally approached the counter, crumpled bills in hand as she gave a small smile.
"I got your text," Kumiko said, preparing the mocha. "About tomorrow, I mean." I guess the 'extra hot' part of her order helps in this weather, she thought.
"Do you think you'll be able to walk?" Reina inquired. "We could always take the bus, if it's too far."
"N-no, walking's fine. I actually like this kind of weather, it makes the air smell nice, and the lights are always so pretty this time of year."
"That's good." Reina looked at the toes of her shoes, shifting nervously in her place.
"Is something wrong?"
"I don't know if I'll be able to go tomorrow, that's all. I have a lot of studying to do, and it might not be good for either of us - seeing as it's going to be Friday tomorrow, and I've heard that the crowds tend to get even more excessive." She gestured to the line behind her for emphasis. Kumiko could see that Reina was tired - her skin was paler than usual, and her hair was sticking up in various places, as if she had rushed out the door that morning without much time to prepare herself. Her eyes, too, showed signs of weariness, dull and sleepy. Everyone's tired these days, Kumiko thought to herself, handing Reina the coffee.
"Would Saturday work?" she asked, noticing that Reina was still wearing her gloves. Well, that's to be expected in this weather, I guess. Reina nodded.
"Saturday would be perfect," she responded, carefully tucking the trumpet case under her other arm as she took the coffee into her hands.
"Great!" Kumiko said, waving goodbye as Reina left the coffeeshop. "I'll see you then!"
Kumiko was just about to pass out when the last customer of the day left Euphonium's, her arms aching from the seemingly endless motions of producing the drinks.
"That sure was a long day, huh?" Hazuki yawned, stretching as she hung up her apron.
"You can say that again," Kumiko groaned.
"That sure was-"
"Don't."
The two baristas went their separate ways as the sun began to set, watching the clouds and the sky darken until they had become indistinguishable from each other in a murky blue blur.
"Another long day?" Natsuki sighed as soon as Kumiko walked in, scooting to make room for her on the couch.
"Yep."
"What about umbrella girl, how'd the talk about that fancy dinner go?"
"She pushed it back to Saturday."
"Ah. Midterms?"
"Probably. I don't know what those things are like in college, but she looked exhausted."
"Well, anyway, I've been on quite a few fancy dinner dates myself, and they're . . . kinda painful . . ." Kumiko blinked.
"How?"
"Well, they're probably gonna be a thousand times worse with umbrella girl, but first of all . . ." Natsuki yanked at the frayed thread, nearly severing it from the couch entirely. "Y-you know what? I don't need to . . . I don't need to tell you how it's gonna play out." Natsuki's voice took on a dark tone, her usual carefreeness replaced by something that reminded Kumiko of tidal waves crashing against rocks in the middle of the night. It was a tone that she had been using more and more often lately, and Kumiko didn't particularly like it. "There's really only two possibilities, anyhow."
"What are they?" Kumiko didn't really want to know the answer.
"One: the two of you are going to have the time of your lives. Maybe you'll do something cliche like make out over the candles or share your food. It'll make you think that everything'll work out perfectly, like one nice dinner is somehow determining your future."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"You're not letting me finish. Two: she'll dump you right there and then, over the candles and fancy food that probably costed more than this couch. You'll trudge home alone, in the cold, with only a belly full of expensive whatever-it-is to give any sense of comfort."
"She wouldn't-"
"I honestly don't know, Kumiko. It'll be one of those two, but heck if I know."
"It's getting late."
"It's hardly even dark out. You'd better start sleeping in more, or this'll come back to bite ya later on."
"Fine. I'm still going to sleep now."
"Yeah, sure, do whatever. It's fine by me. I'm not in control of your life. I'm not in control of anything."
There was no purple mansion this time, thankfully, but there was a sense of familiarity to the scene that made Kumiko uneasy. She was standing on one end of a street, pushed along by passerby shuffling to their workplaces on the dreary gray sidewalk. Reina stood on the sidewalk opposite to her. Kumiko reached out a hand to wave, but Reina didn't respond. She called Reina's name above the dry mumblings of the passerby, but she still didn't respond. Kumiko was screaming now, pushing her way through the faceless people as she ran and ran towards Reina, but she still didn't respond. Finally, she turned to face Kumiko, her eyes boring straight into her, yet she still didn't respond, without even a word.
The dream wasn't enough to make Kumiko jolt awake - she instead found herself still curled in the fetal position, her hands stiff and aching as if she had been trying to signal Reina even in the waking world. Kumiko sighed and flopped back over, waiting for morning to come.
Midori still wasn't at work, and Kumiko and Hazuki were once again forced to endure the crowd, intensified by the freedoms that Fridays offered - coworkers and couples alike could be often seen sharing their drinks, laughing over the events of the past week. The day inched by, and Reina's absence only added to the slowness of it all. Kumiko spent every free second she had staring at the clock, willing the hands to move so that she could finally leave. After what seemed like forever, the horde of customers left, and Kumiko ran out the door as soon as she could.
Crap, is this how it's going to be until it gets warm again? Kumiko wondered as she walked home, tightening her coat. Well, at least Midori's going to be back tomorrow. That'll make things easier. I'll see Reina, too. Natsuki's ramblings don't have too much to back them up, the dinner's going to go fine, as long as I find something to wear and figure out what the names of those menu items even mean. Kumiko's phone beeped, and she curiously pulled it out of her bag.
Midori: i'll be here tomorrow afternoon probably
Kumiko typed back a response as the apartment building came into view.
Kumiko: that's great, we could definitely use the extra hands in this weather
Kumiko: is this why we're the only three baristas?
Kumiko: because of how crazy it gets in the winter?
Midori: probably
Ascending the familiar stairs of the building, Kumiko put the phone back in her pocket. I'm going on a fancy dinner date tomorrow with the girl of my dreams, who is also my actual girlfriend, and Midori's going to be back at the coffeeshop to help us manage the customers. Things are good. Things are good. Things are- She had reached the apartment's door before she could finish her thought. Natsuki was on the couch when she entered - she hardly ever sat at the table anymore - and she gave Kumiko a small wave while still staring at the television.
"Did umbrella girl cancel on ya?" she asked, clicking her tongue in distaste.
"No. Why would you think she would?" Natsuki shrugged.
"Eh, I just figured that it'd be a likely outcome. Well, anyway, I've got a fancy sweater and scarf-bowtie-thingy lying somewhere in my closet if ya need 'em. I'm not saying that I wanna help umbrella girl with her manic pixie dream plan, whatever it is, but fancy dinner can be torture if ya don't do everything right. I don't really have any use for that stuff anymore, anyway." Natsuki clenched the arm of the couch. "If I did, I wouldn't be giving it to you."
"Thanks?" Kumiko didn't quite know what to make of the offer.
"Don't mention it. Now, ya need to get some more sleep. This winter crowd's slowly killing ya, I can tell. It doesn't matter how early it is right now, ya won't be able to survive that dinner without a good night's sleep."
"You sound like a mom."
"Perhaps I do, Kumiko, perhaps I do."
Kumiko entered the dreamscape with the unmistakable feeling that she had been here before. She had felt it in the previous dream, too, but it was infinitely stronger this time, as if she was reliving a memory. Perhaps she was. She stood in a room with Natsuki - the apartment, she realized in her dreamy haze, with another bed resting in the corner of the room as if someone had started to drag it somewhere, but had given up. They were both younger, that much was obvious. Natsuki looked defeated, tired, and Kumiko had no idea how to console her.
"It's fine, Kumiko," the dream-Natsuki said, almost as if she had heard Kumiko's thoughts. She slyly grinned before sliding into her chair. The sight of Natsuki in that chair felt right, somehow, in a way that Kumiko couldn't really place, most likely due to the fact that she was in a dream and only possessed the memories that she needed to work her way through this room, through whatever had just happened. "I'm . . . I'm fine. T-this isn't the first time, 'kay? The first time this has happened, I mean. I guess I've told ya that already, though." Kumiko extended her hand in a gesture of friendship, her actions working on autopilot.
"Friends, then?" she said, slowly realizing where she was and what was happening. It 'was' a memory, it seemed. The dream-Natsuki smiled and took Kumiko's hand in a tight hold, shaking it vigorously.
"Yeah. Friends."'
Kumiko looked over at Natsuki's sleeping figure, resisting the urge to pat her shoulder and console her. She still didn't have any idea how to help, even with all of her senses and memories, and the feelings of uselessness threatened to envelope her until her phone buzzed, jolting her out of the dangerous thought-spiral.
Reina: I apologize for texting you this late at night.
Reina: I just needed to tell you one more thing about the restaurant.
Reina: It's nearly full to the brim with reservations, so you'll have to get there right on the dot.
Reina: I managed to get reservations for 6:00 P.M.
Reina: Would that work for you?'
Kumiko looked down at the glaringly bright screen, thankful for a way out of those intimidating thoughts.
'Kumiko: 6 sounds great, actually!
Kumiko: i'll get out of work right on time and head straight there
Kumiko: well
Kumiko: not /straight/ there
Kumiko: if you know what i mean
Reina: I know what you mean.
Reina: I won't be going "straight" there either.
Kumiko: i'm not going to do the winky-facing
Reina: Winky-facing?
Kumiko: it's a thing my coworkers do
Kumiko: anyway
Kumiko: see you tomorrow?
Reina: Definitely.
Reina:
Kumiko: ?
Reina: I really wish this phone could send emoticons.
Kumiko: well in any case, i'm excited for dinner tomorrow!
Reina: I'll see you then.
Kumiko smiled as she drifted back into a peaceful slumber, the dream mostly forgotten.
Kumiko woke that morning to Natsuki's clumsy footsteps heading out of the bedroom, the older girl's silhouette sharp against the light beginning to seep through the window.
"Natsuki?" Kumiko grunted. "What're you doing?" Natsuki stopped in her tracks.
"Well, I was gonna go and watch the early morning movie marathon on one of the cable channels, but ya kind of interrupted me."
"Oh. You go do that, then." Kumiko nestled back down into her covers.
"I mean, ya should probably get going anyway. It's almost time for the first crazy businesspeople to buy their early morning joe, and ya wouldn't wanna be behind on your game when it comes to dinner with umbrella girl."
"Fine."
Kumiko felt an sudden surge of energy as she walked to Euphonium's, the sweater that seemed more like an odd suit and scarf-bowtie-thing (she really didn't know what it was) safely tucked in her bag.
A dinner date's a step in the right direction, right? she thought, remembering the countless daydreams she had in her youth of romantic times with the people she had fallen for - they all felt so long ago, now, but she still couldn't help but conjure up those same images from her middle school fantasies, laughing over a fancy meal as everything in the background faded to light and shadow. You have that already, idiot, a voice clamored in her head. You have a 'girlfriend,' for crying out loud, why're you going back to those stupid daydreams? Start acting grateful, kid. Kumiko didn't have time to wonder why her own thoughts were patronizing her as she approached the coffeeshop's storefront. Hazuki was still alone, already serving a young child who couldn't have been older than ten. Kumiko quickly snatched up her apron and hung up her bag.
"Where's Midori?" she whispered. Hazuki shrugged.
"H-hey, m-miss?" the child mumbled, shakily holding out a handful of coins. "I'd, uh, I'd r-really like one of t-those iced coffees, p-please." Hazuki gently smiled.
"Of course!" she chirped. "It's coming right up!" Kumiko prepared the coffee as Hazuki counted the coins and handed the child some change. More people gathered in line behind the child, who seemed to grow more and more uneasy as customers stood in the coffeeshop. Kumiko quickly handed the child the coffee and waved goodbye. "Is it normal for kids that age to be alone?" Hazuki wondered. Kumiko didn't know the answer.
Reina showed up later that day, squashed between the bustle of the customers as she pushed notes aside in her bag to find her money. Kumiko enthusiastically waved to her, preparing the mocha before the current customer was even finished paying.
"I'm, uh, I'm looking forward to the dinner tonight," Kumiko mumbled, finishing Reina's coffee and handing it to her in exchange for the crumpled bills.
"I am too," Reina responded, taking a sip of the drink. "I've heard that the food there is amazing."
"So, I'll see you a six o'clock, then?" Reina merely nodded before walking away. Kumiko grinned.
"So, who's the lucky one?" Hazuki had been watching the entire conversation while counting the money in the cash register. Kumiko stiffened.
"Huh?"
"You've been smiling and humming to yourself all day. There has to be someone." Kumiko took a deep breath.
Well, if she really needs to know, I guess now is the best time to say something. "Hazuki, I don't think you understand this, but I'm-"
"Hey, we're sorry to interrupt, but our break is almost over, and the boss is gonna kill us if we don't get back in time, so could you please take our orders?" A small gathering of business workers stood in front of the counter. Kumiko wished, not for the first time that day, for Midori to be there. Where is she, anyway? The two baristas sighed as the businesspeople rattled off their orders. Kumiko had already started to tune them out.
The day finally came to a close, as Kumiko and Hazuki ushered the final customers out the door.
"I'm going to go to this huge party downtown," Hazuki said, hanging up her apron. "You should come, it'll be fun."
"I can't," Kumiko responded. "I've got plans." With that, she slung her bag over her shoulder and ran out the door, taking out the sweater and scarf-bowtie-thing and pulling them on as fast as possible. I can't be late, she thought. Not for this.
"Kumiko?" The barista was stopped in her tracks by a squeaky voice she knew all too well.
"Midori? What're you doing here?" The smaller girl was standing in front of a storefront with a large cardboard box in her arms, labelled FREE KITTENS in rushed, scribbled writing.
"Kumiko, I'm really glad you're here, I found Tuba-kun and I'm really happy, but . . ." Kumiko stepped closer to the box and peered inside. A fluffy white cat stared back up at her, slowly blinking its blue eyes and protectively curling its tail around something. Midori gently pushed the cat's tail aside to reveal six tiny, squirming kittens, competing for space in the box as they climbed on top of each other. "They're past the nursing age, and I can't keep them at home, but I don't want Tuba-kun's babies to go to the pound!" One of the kittens let out a feeble mew.
"Midori, I really don't think-"
"I've got five people who promised to return later, but I'm going to have to go home soon, and even if all of them come back, I'll still have one left. Please, Kumiko." A white kitten with orange patches, smaller than the others, scrambled to the edge of the box. Kumiko moved her hand closer, and the kitten immediately latched onto her arm.
"Fine," she said, picking up the tiny kitten and carefully putting it in her bag. What're you doing, you idiot? We can't afford a cat! Kumiko remembered the moleskine notebook and took it out of the bag, putting it back in her pocket to protect it from the kitten. Midori clasped her hands together in joy.
"Thank you, Kumiko!" she squeaked. "Now, promise me you're going to give Tuba-kun a loving home, okay?"
"I thought that the mother cat's name was Tuba-kun."
"They're all named Tuba-kun," Midori replied smugly.
"Well, anyway, I have to go now, I'll try to take care of the cat, I hope you have a nice evening!" Kumiko called behind her shoulder as she broke out into a sprint, frantically trying to remember the directions to the restaurant as she ran. Crap, I'm gonna be late, Reina's gonna be mad at me, and I've got a random kitten in my bag, this won't end well, this won't end well, this won't end well. After several minutes of running, Kumiko remembered that the map was still on her phone, and she rapidly followed the directions written on the tiny screen as the sky began to darken.
Finally, Kumiko reached the restaurant out of breath, clutching the bag to her side. Reina stood at the entrance. She was the definition of elegance, Kumiko thought, with her hair tied up and her dress billowing slightly in the breeze.
"You're on time," she said, a hint of surprise evident in her voice.
"I didn't want to be late for this, uh, date," Kumiko answered, taking Reina's hand into her own and lightly kissing her cheek. "This seems like a nice place."
"Excuse me, madam, but you're going to have to leave your bag at the entrance," a man said, looking down at the two girls. Kumiko suddenly remembered the wriggling kitten still in the purse. "It's common courtesy, you see. You can take out your wallet, but I would suggest leaving most of it to your friend here." Reina bristled at the comment as Kumiko, panicked and pressed for time, shoved the kitten into her sweater. Both girls hung their bags on hooks that reminded Kumiko of the ones at Euphonium's as they entered the restaurant.
"I'm sorry about that man's behavior," Reina said once they were inside. "You must've walked for a long time, it's no wonder you look tired."
"You look tired too," Kumiko retorted. Looking at Reina directly, she could see that weariness still hung about her like a gray cloud, no matter how much she tried to conceal it with dresses and fancy dinners.
"The midterms are approaching. It's a stressful time for all of us." Reina sat down in a chair, and Kumiko followed.
"Yeah, I've heard that they're really hard."
"I don't even care about them, if you want the truth. This is all just a necessary pathway to pursuing my own goals."
"Of becoming special, you mean?"
"Exactly. If it was up to me, I wouldn't be wasting any time with these things, but I have to take these classes to graduate, so I'll just have to keep on going, I suppose."
"That's a strong - mew - way of thinking about things, Reina." The kitten had started to vocalize its protest as it pushed against the fabric of the sweater. Kumiko pressed her arm to her side to prevent Reina from seeing the tiny cat bulging from the side.
"Are you okay?" Reina asked as Kumiko forced out a grin. The kitten had moved to her back. Kumiko waved her hand dismissively.
"Yeah, I'm fine, nothing out of the - mew - ordinary here!" she yelped. The kitten dug its claws into her back, and she had to hold back a squeak of pain. The atmosphere of the restaurant wasn't helping, either - it felt stuffy and uptight, and Kumiko found herself wishing for the simplicity and clamor of the diner.
"In any case, I haven't asked you about your work. The coffeeshop seemed crowded this morning. Are you managing alright?" Kumiko shrugged.
"Y-yeah, I guess everything's fine. To be honest, I wasn't really prepared for how many people there were. This is my first year working there, and it's kinda overwhelming to go from a couple of people coming in every hour to . . . y'know . . . stampedes."
"You could always find a different job, you know." Reina cast a glance over at her trumpet case. "You're a hard worker, I could see that from how readily you've been preparing my drink these past few months. Most people don't really care enough to get every single part right." Kumiko shifted in her seat.
"That's not really why I remembered it so well, Reina." Kumiko felt her cheeks heating up, and she could see the tips of Reina's ears turning red as if she knew what Kumiko was going to say next. "I did that because, uh, I did it because I kinda w-wanted to impress you."
"You let your personal feelings change the way you did your daily job?"
"I guess I did, but-"
"That doesn't usually end well, Kumiko," Reina interjected, grabbing a cloth napkin and clenching it in her hand. Kumiko tensed.
"It's not like it's a negative thing, though," she said, attempting to defend herself. "I mean, it gave me practice for making drinks for other people, so it still led to something good, even if it started out as something that happened because I had a huge crush on you and wanted to impress you however I could."
"That doesn't matter. You can't let your feelings get in the way of how you proceed with your life. It hardly ever ends well."
"You're one to talk - I'm not the one who's been going on about playing the trumpet to become the best-"
"To become special. They're different things."
"Okay, to become special, then. I'm not the one who's been going on about playing the trumpet to become special and taking people up mountains for no reason. You're . . . you're amazing, Reina, but I'm not the only one here who gets pulled around by their emotions."
"I would sincerely hope that I'm not interrupting anything here, but perhaps the two of you may want an order of refreshments?" A waitress stood next to the table, speaking in some kind of false accent.
"Water for me, please," Kumiko said, willing the waitress to leave.
"I'll take a water as well," Reina added. The waitress nodded and walked away, her shoes making a clip-clop sound as she walked. Kumiko eyed her menu, trying to figure out what the meals even were. "I can understand why you would think that," Reina continued as soon as the waitress had left. "However, I can guarantee that I am the one in control, not my emotions. I know where to draw the line." An uneasy silence fell over the two girls, and Kumiko looked out the window at the people walking by, then back to the quiet of the restaurant. The kitten was still stubbornly clinging to her back. The girls sat in silence for several minutes, with Reina drumming her fingers against the trumpet case while Kumiko looked back out the window. There were people laughing out there, smiling and joking with each other under the stars. The couples in the restaurant all seemed to be tightly smiling, tense under the pressure that they themselves were creating. Kumiko wanted out. This wasn't the magical dinner she had been dreaming of since she was younger. This was strange, it was uncomfortable, it was the same terrifying feeling she had felt so many times in those dreams, that feeling of being on an edge without anyone to accompany her. The waitress came back with the waters, plainly smiling with a notepad in her hand.
"Are you ready to order?" she asked. "I can always give you more time if you need." Kumiko was about to tell her that yes, she needed more time, but Reina talked before she could say anything.
"Yes, I think we're ready," she said. "I'll take this." Reina pointed to a lengthily-titled item on the menu that Kumiko couldn't even pronounce - and it didn't look like Reina could pronounce it, either. The waitress nodded and scribbled something on her notepad.
"And you?" she inquired, turning to Kumiko. The waitress was staring directly at her, and the people in the restaurant were so tense, and Reina was sitting so still. She needed to leave.
"I'm, uh, I'm sorry, I just need a bit of fresh air, okay?" Kumiko stood up and ran outside, grabbing her bag on the way out. The cold air stung her face, but it was a welcome change from the restaurant's stuffy atmosphere. It was dark outside, darker than it had been when she had entered that stupid restaurant.
"Kumiko?" The girl turned around. Reina was standing at the entrance, her dress whipping against her legs as she walked closer. Crap.
"I'm, uh, I'm sorry about running out like that," Kumiko mumbled. Reina moved to hold her hand, and Kumiko was grateful for the warmth.
"It's fine."
"It was just really stuffy in there, and everyone was so stiff, I just couldn't really bear it, y'know? I guess I had thought that a fancy dinner would somehow, I dunno, take this to the 'next level' or something, but it just ended up being creepy. It's stupid, I know."
"No, I think I get it. We're all dreaming of something better than what we have - it's just a dumb thing that we humans do for some reason. I think I know a way that this night can be salvaged, though."
"Huh?"
"Follow me." Reina walked behind the building with her hand still holding Kumiko's, stopping at a staircase behind it.
"What's this?" Kumiko wondered out loud. Reina lightly hopped onto the first step, beckoning Kumiko to follow. "Are we allowed to be up here?" she asked. Reina shrugged.
"I don't know, but I doubt that anybody would try to find us up here." The two girls reached the top of the stairs, and Kumiko felt her breath being stolen from her lungs. The entire city was spread out beneath her, the cheery people still visible from above. "We're alone," Reina added. "We can talk about anything here. A friend told me that roofs can be useful for getting away from everything." Kumiko crept to the edge, protected by a railing, and Reina stood beside her.
"I guess now's as good of a time as any to tell you about Natsuki, then," Kumiko murmured. She turned to Reina. "You'll have to promise me that you won't tell anyone, okay? I mean, the only reason why I'm telling you is because I don't want the two most important people in my life to hate each other. Maybe . . . maybe this'll help you understand, but you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone else about this." Reina nodded.
"I promise."
"Okay. I didn't know her for a lot of this time, so I'm just going off of what she told me."
"That's fine."
"Right, I guess I should just get to the point, then."
"That would be nice."
"Natsuki didn't have very much motivation when she was in school. She was bored, most of the time, but she had one thing that kept her going."
"What was that?"
"A girl. They were dating, Natsuki and her. They kissed in alleyways and tiny diners, places where nobody could see them. In the broad daylight, the girl was simply Natsuki's friend, the one who helped her with homework sometimes. It was wonderful, apparently." Kumiko gazed down at the passerby, remembering the way Natsuki had told the story with such remorse in her voice. "She always said that she could practically feel that magical spark between them."
"What happened, then?"
"Natsuki didn't care what people thought of her - she was what people would call 'out and proud,' I think, but her girlfriend didn't share the same sentiments. They drifted apart, a bit, but they still remained together despite that, despite their differences. But, one day, in Natsuki's senior year, the girl moved. There was no telephone call, no email, no old-fashioned handwritten letter to say that she still cared, or even to say that she didn't. She just left, without a word."
"That sounds terrible."
"It was. Natsuki lost all of her motivation, after that. She dropped out of school and lived off of some spare money she had saved while living in hotels, traveling around in cheap taxis and trains and growing addicted to television while chatting up every girl she met in hopes of finding someone who could replace that girl from her high school. I met her a few years later. She was cheering front and center at a parade, and we went out for coffee and instantly hit it off. We were dating, before long, but I think that both of us knew that we were just kidding ourselves. That spark she was so desperately chasing - it just wasn't there. By the time that the both of us confronted that fact, we were already living together, so we just peacefully broke off the relationship and decided to stay friends. And that's where it ends, I guess."
"Oh." Reina, despite all of her tiredness, still managed to give off an otherworldly glow underneath the moonlight as she looked down at the people below alongside Kumiko.
"It's sad, isn't it? There're times when I wish I could find that girl and punch her square in the nose for what she did to Natsuki."
"Did she love her?" Reina's question caught Kumiko off-guard.
"Huh?"
"Your roommate, did she love that girl?"
"I would figure as much. Love, no matter what kind, is probably the only thing powerful enough to screw someone over like that."
"I suppose." The two girls stood in silence for a while, both contemplating the story in their own ways, until Kumiko saw something falling from the sky that made her heart swell up like she was a little kid again.
"Reina! Look! It's snowing!" Sure enough, tiny flakes were drifting down from the clouds, slowly coating the city in a blanket of white.
"It's beautiful," Reina breathed. Kumiko stepped closer, and the two shared another kiss underneath the falling snow, on top of a roof where nobody could see them.
Kumiko came home late that night with her clothes ruffled by the wind, her bowtie-scarf-thing sticking out to the side with her hair disheveled. Natsuki smirked.
"Rough night, huh?" she snickered, watching an advertisement for a superhero movie on the television.
"Shut up," Kumiko grunted. The kitten chose that moment to slide out of her sweater with a surprised mew onto the floor.