a/n: so. it's been exactly one year since i posted my first kumirei fic on here, and there's been so much that's happened since then. i'm not going to stop writing kumirei, though, i can promise you that.

There was a boat in the river.

This, in itself, was not something particularly surprising - there were always boats in the river, tourists and locals alike sailing across the water while pointing out any local sights. The surprising thing was that Reina was sitting in the boat with a picnic basket in her hands as she waved to Kumiko.

"Y-you told me to come as soon as I could!" Kumiko said, yelling in order to be heard over the chatter of the townsfolk.

"Yes!" Reina yelled back. "Did you bring your euphonium?" Kumiko held up the instrument in its case to answer. "I figured that we should do something along these lines before the summer ends and we're forced back inside!" Kumiko walked down the cobbled steps and shakily stepped onto the boat. Reina offered her hand, and Kumiko took it graciously as the boat (which was smaller than she had first thought) rocked from side to side.

"Have you, uh, sailed a boat before?" Kumiko asked, looking at the boat as she set down her euphonium. She would have thought it was a canoe of some sort if not for the small motor on the back of it, purring and buzzing as it rotated.

"No," Reina answered bluntly, staring ahead as she started the boat. "I rented this. A few of the others in the trumpet section recommended it, saying it was 'an indescribable experience' and 'your girlfriend, at least, hopefully won't push you out of the boat.' I figured that it wasn't the worst possible idea." Reina was still looking at the water, and for once Kumiko was grateful - she had turned red at the word girlfriend.

"Why'd you have me bring this?" Kumiko held up the euphonium case again. Reina looked back at her, dark hair blown back from the wind.

"I would've thought that you knew," she said softly. The boat passed underneath a bridge, and Kumiko ducked instinctively. "In any case," she murmured as she turned around fully, pressing a kiss to Kumiko's cheek, "you'll find out soon enough."

It was peaceful, riding on the boat despite its rockiness, and even that made Kumiko feel as if she were being lulled to sleep. The sun shone brightly in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything and everyone. Kumiko needed to squint against the silver gleam of the boat, but it didn't trouble her as much as it would have on any other day, not with Reina sitting beside her with the biggest smile that Kumiko had ever seen from her.

"Y-you're, uh, really enjoying this, huh?" Reina nodded.

"It's undeniably tranquil," she said. "We can let everything else melt away, here."

"What do you mean?"

"Nobody knows where we are, correct?" Kumiko nodded - she had told her mother that she was going out with a friend, but not much more than that, and she was sure from Reina's expression that the other girl had left without even a word to her family. "We could run away like this, Kumiko."

"Is this about the traveling on a train thing again?" Reina nodded.

"I used to envision it as a personal endeavor," she murmured, stroking the ends of the boat. "It would be myself and my trumpet, and nobody else. It would be an individual journey. I would leave one day with no warning, and never look back. I was fairly close to it, too." Reina gave a rueful laugh, and Kumiko felt a deep stirring in her chest. "Oh, but Kitauji caused somewhat of a bump in that plan. Or, in any case, someone at Kitauji caused somewhat of a bump." Kumiko clenched the euphonium case, practically hearing the words Taki-sensei before Reina continued.

"Who?" she asked, even though she already knew (and didn't want to know, not at all). Reina flashed another knowing smile before wrapping a hand around Kumiko's neck, and the word girlfriend came back to her thoughts for a split second before she regained her senses and safe pessimism, trying her best to back away from Reina (she was being cruel, so very cruel for holding her like this when Taki-sensei was just about to leave her lips), but it was a small boat and all she succeeded in doing was rocking it and splashing the both of them.

"You," Reina said simply, and Kumiko fell out of the boat right then and there. "Kumiko! Kumiko, keep yourself afloat, grab my hand!" Kumiko flailed in the water, reaching for Reina's outstretched hand with such desperation that she may as well have been saving her from the edge of a vast cliff than a relatively shallow river. Kumiko scrambled onto the boat, soaked through and more than slightly resembling a dying fish, but she let out a laugh of sheer relief.

"You really mean it?" she said, still coughing up water and shuddering from the cold river. Reina nodded as she rifled through the picnic basket, though Kumiko didn't know what for. In some far reach of her mind, she had been expecting the confession (the wonderful confession, the confession that she had never ever thought would happen) to go a bit more dramatically, and perhaps Reina would show more than an expression of vague concern.

"Yes, of course," Reina sighed, finally pulling out a blanket from the picnic basket with a flourish and wrapping it around Kumiko's shivering form. "I rarely say things that I don't mean, and in any case, we've had this conversation more than once in different ways. I don't doubt that we'll have it again." Reina pressed herself against Kumiko, letting the boat drive itself, and she was grateful for the heat as the boat drifted lazily.

"You're right," Kumiko murmured.

"Hmm?"

"It's peaceful here. It really d-does feel like we could just go like this forever."

"This isn't a taunt, is it?"

"No, of c-course not!" Kumiko looked down at her reflection, warped and still dripping wet. "I just . . . I don't think it's as bad of an idea as I thought at first. I'd do it in a heartbeat if I didn't have . . . y'know . . . stuff to still do."

"I can understand that." Reina nestled in the crook of Kumiko's neck. "I have things I care about, too. We have school tomorrow, after all. As much of a wonderful dream it is, it's simply impossible right now." Kumiko lightly prodded her with an elbow.

"When have you ever called something impossible?" she teased.

"Right now, when I'm admitting the sad truths of my pipe dreams. Are you happy with that?"

"We could still do it, though." I'm being sucked in again, Kumiko realized. I'm going along with this. Crap, she's still incredible and mysterious. She's still like some kind of snow spirit. Reina still sat nestled against Kumiko, both of them wrapped in the now-damp picnic blanket. The sun had started to go down, still bright enough for people to walk along the bridges and sidewalks but dark enough for the night to seem closer than ever, tantalizing and unknown. Kumiko wondered how long Reina planned for this boat trip to last - they were in an unfamiliar part of town, now, buildings she had never seen looming above the tiny boat.

"Really?"

"Y-yeah, if we go during a break or something." Reina shook her head slowly, and there was a sadness held in her expression that Kumiko desperately wanted to take away, to pull out of her and toss into the river surrounding them both. "Why not?"

"Those are when I'm meant to practice the most," Reina said, holding up her trumpet case. The evening light glowed off the boat, leaving Reina to look like some kind of otherworldly being even though she was nothing more than a girl in a boat who overworked herself to the point of exhaustion. "Besides, it would defeat the purpose. Nothing would be at stake."

"Why not just take this boat?" Reina raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"How so?"

"We have food, right? And I brought some money with me, so that wouldn't be a problem. We could just keep going on this boat for a while, right?" Reina shook her head again.

"We have school tomorrow," she said. "Believe me, I'd love nothing more." There was a pause, and Reina looked up ahead. "We're here."

"B-but nothing's there." Reina smiled.

"That's the point."

The boat was soon safely docked as Kumiko and Reina walked out of it with their hands firmly intertwined, each holding their instrument with a tight grip.

"W-wait, what about the picnic basket?" Reina flipped it upside down, revealing nothing more than a few fuzzballs and a battered mechanical pencil.

"You're wearing all of its contents." Kumiko felt the edge of the blanket.

"Oh. Wait, this wasn't a picnic?" Reina looked at the gravelly space the two girls now stood on.

"This isn't a particularly picnic-like place. The initial plan was to set that out and lie down on it, watching the people walk by and talk, but I suppose we can't do that anymore."

"What about the instruments?"

"I hadn't finished. I was about to tell you that I wanted us to play a duet here."

"Why here, though? It's just a random town we've never been to before." Crap. I probably just insulted her plan. Kumiko was just about to apologize when Reina propped up her trumpet case on the boat, taking the instrument itself in careful hands.

"Exactly."

"What?"

"We'll play for these people, and they won't have any idea who we are. We'll be enigmas, Kumiko, and our music can stay here forever, untouched by anything that happens afterwards. This can be our escape, our runaway place, a bubble that can't be popped."

"You've thought about this a lot, huh?" Reina nodded.

"It's the closest thing we have to a train we can take far away," she murmured. "Of course I think it's important. We can do anything here, Kumiko, because nobody knows us." To prove her point, Reina spun Kumiko around in an impromptu dance, and Kumiko did the same, and soon the two were hopping and dancing on the blanket with flushed cheeks and laughter filling the air. "I won't waste the time we have here."

"I know you won't, Reina." Kumiko leaned in and let herself rest on Reina's shoulder, the fabric of the trumpet player's white dress tickling her nose. "You're wonderful."

"Now, I suppose we should begin our duet." With what could have been reluctance, Reina pulled herself away from Kumiko and lifted the trumpet to her lips. Kumiko followed suit, taking her euphonium from its case and propping it on her legs.

"What song are we playing?"

"The Crescent Moon Dance," Reina replied simply. "Fitting, isn't it?" Kumiko could only nod. The practiced tune floated from the brass instruments with ease, carried by the wind as Kumiko and Reina struggled to be heard against the now-rushing river. A few people smiled at them, some clapped, but most simply passed by without even a glance in their direction. Kumiko, still caught between deep-set worry and utter exhilaration as the notes continued to flow from memory, briefly looked to Reina for any kind of expression (she had wanted to be an enigma, it seemed, and yet hardly anyone heard the music played on that gravelly staircase) but her eyes were closed, her entire being seeming to take on a type of glow as she continued.

That's what she looks like when she's passionate, huh? Kumiko thought, a bit guiltily. Not like she did on the boat. Here, without any burdens. This is her escape, isn't it? The final notes of the song faded out, and Reina placed the trumpet carefully back into its case. "Hey, Reina?"

"Yes?" Reina's face was flushed from the performance, her forehead dripping with beads of sweat.

"I'm n-not . . . I'm not a burden, right?" Kumiko hated those words, hated how they came out like some kind of desperate plea, and yet they were out before she could stop herself. Reina blinked.

"Why would you think that? I told you earlier on the boat, didn't I?" She seemed hurt, almost, and Kumiko suddenly felt herself being swallowed by guilt. "Does that mean nothing to you? Is this a game to you, Kumiko? I don't pass out confessions often, I try to dedicate myself to my craft and then these feelings get in the way and all it does is throw everything out of balance." Reina had stepped onto the boat, now, keeping the trumpet case firmly held in her arms like a baby. "This wasn't part of the plan. I hadn't intended for any of this to happen, you know." Reina had raised her voice, and a few people had turned at the sound, watching the quibble with the curiosity only complete strangers can have. "Get through school, master the trumpet, become special. That was the intention. That was it." If Kumiko had any doubts about this involving her, those doubts were gone now.

"Reina, I-"

"I could have gone to Rikka, but I didn't, because Taki-sensei wasn't there. I could have remained rooted in my goal, alone, but then you came along and you threw everything out of balance and-"

"Reina, I'm sorry, okay?" Kumiko couldn't say anything else, not with the girl she had always seen as so strong breaking down in front of her.

"I tried. I tried and I tried to ignore all of it, but I couldn't and so I wasted time on childish things, mountains and dates and confessions and all it did was amount to you still doubting me."

"I'm sorry!" Kumiko repeated, now in a strained half-yell.

"I wasn't lying, you know. I never lied to you, not once. I read stupid, pointless books cover to cover in middle school and put every single one of them to use just to plan for that one festival night, because perhaps then I could finally have someone to talk to and-"

"Would you take it back if you could?" Reina looked up, and Kumiko couldn't help but flinch when she saw the tears streaking her cheeks.

"What?" Kumiko gestured to the boat, the euphonium, and herself.

"W-would you?" She feared the answer more than she let on, hardly managing to keep a brave face for Reina.

"No," Reina said, without a moment's hesitation. "Perhaps I would have found a better career at Rikka, perhaps I wouldn't have needed to deal with . . . all of these feelings . . . if I hadn't decided to let them in and let them stay with me, but it would have been boring. That's why music exists, in any case." The boat had started up again, and Kumiko clung to the edge as Reina looked up at the pink-gold sky. "It's meant to convey the emotions you can't say in mere words." Kumiko wrapped her arms around Reina's waist, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Is that part of becoming special? Showing your feelings through music? Crap, I guess I kinda sound like Midori." Reina let out a laugh, a gentle sound that seemed to be trying its best to push down a sob.

"Of course it is," she murmured. "There wouldn't be much of a point to it if I couldn't make some kind of impact." Kumiko watched the sun drop below the horizon, the sky darkening as the buildings turned on their lights.

"We'll be okay, Reina," Kumiko said, though she wasn't quite sure what propelled her to say it in that moment. Perhaps it was the setting sun, perhaps it was Reina's tear-stained cheeks, perhaps it was simply the warmth that she felt in the deepest parts of her bones whenever she was with Reina, but she knew that it was the right thing to say. "It'll be alright." Reina leaned against her, violet eyes still glimmering with leftover tears.

"You're terrible, you know that?" Kumiko elbowed her.

"H-hey, I was trying to say something heartfelt there!"

"And you succeeded." Reina looked down at her reflection, and Kumiko did the same. "Look at those two girls. They'll be left in this river long after we've gone."

"Yeah, but we'll last longer than them."

"Hmm?"

"We, uh, we have each other, don't we? That's the most important thing." Reina smiled.

"Yes," she said, "I suppose it is."

a/n: thank you. everyone, thank you so much for being amazing this past year. you don't know how unbelievably important these two nerds are to me, how much they've helped. thank you. thank you from the bottom of my heart.