AN: I wanted to write another drabble, but it came out to be a lot longer than I expected. But honestly, Hibigay is such a blessing. And such a blessing needs a sprinkling of angst and first confessions. Something like that.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy. This takes place post-series, in an AU of sorts.
Ciao. c:
There was no doubt that Reina was breathtaking. There was something about her, something about her raven-haired magnificence, that never failed to capture Kumiko's breath. Kumiko could never put her finger on what it was.
The years of their high-school life had come and gone, and soon enough, Kumiko and her precious friends from Kitauji High School Band went their separate ways. The upperclassmen had left long before Kumiko did, leaving behind the legacy of being a part of Kitauji's first band to ever win Nationals and nothing else. Midori had went off to study abroad in America, her major being something far beyond anything Kumiko could ever comprehend. Hazuki had decided to something much humbler, and had moved to the city to find something she would be able to do and love with the same intensity she felt whenever she played tuba (or whenever she looked at Shuuichi, but Kumiko made sure to not voice that thought out loud). Shuuichi had failed to tell Kumiko where he was going, mainly because he had been trying to gather the guts to confess to Kumiko at the graduation ceremony (Kumiko had decided to be a good friend and had changed the subject to put him out of his misery), but if she had to guess, he probably settled for a local college near their hometown—Shuuichi had always been surprisingly sentimental.
And as for Reina, she had mysteriously came and went, just like their highschool days, taking nothing with her but her trumpet and the heart she unknowingly stole from Kumiko's chest.
Recovering from such a wound had taken a long time on Kumiko's part, and in the middle of healing, she had spontaneously decided to move out in order to attend university. Her mother and father were shocked, up to the point where her mother actually started sobbing at the announcement, but eventually accepted it with a grain of salt and sent her off with their blessings. Kumiko's sister, on the other hand, wasn't as apathetic as Kumiko had expected; she had actually purchased another succulent and had given it to Kumiko on the day of her departure.
"It's a little thing to keep that pet of yours company when you're off dying in your college classes," Mamiko had said with a smirk, resting a hand on her swelling belly.
Even now, Kumiko wished she found it in herself to tell her sister how much she actually loved her that day.
"Kumiko."
A gentle voice coaxed her from her thoughts, and Kumiko slowly raised her head. A pair of familiar purple eyes stared at her curiously from across the kitchen table. Kumiko had the strongest urge to brush back that one strand of black hair, so that she could appreciate the beautiful sight in front of her without any distraction.
"Yeah?" Kumiko decided to say, busying herself by tracing the lip of the mug in front of her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You seem...out of it."
"I'm fine, Reina." Kumiko added a little smile for reassurance, a small trick that worked every time.
And sure enough, after a moment or two of studying her, Reina decided to let the subject die, giving a faint nod of approval before returning to her assignment. Kumiko's eyes trailed down to stare at Reina's work, but after only a second of looking, the faint pain of a headache began to build in her temples.
"How do you handle that much?" Kumiko asked, looking up at Reina. Although their eyes don't meet, Kumiko felt the pain in her head ebbing away; Reina really was a sight for sore eyes.
Reina didn't stop moving her pen as she answered. "I sold my soul to the devil." After boxing an answer, she looked up and gave Kumiko the faintest of smiles, her amethyst eyes glimmering.
"I honestly wouldn't be surprised," Kumiko said, chuckling. Reina replied with one of her own before going back to work, another strand of hair that was tucked behind her ear falling to partially mask her face.
Although it wasn't as long as it had been during high school, Kumiko couldn't deny its beauty: pinpoint straight and silky, its luster brighter than any gold. If obsidian were to be woven, Kumiko would have no doubt that it would look like Reina's hair.
Kumiko remembered the first time she saw Reina's haircut; it was the same day she stepped into her new apartment.
No, scratch that—their new apartment.
Although living on campus wasn't required, Kumiko's—and Reina's—university offered on-campus lodging for those whose families were too far away to commute back and forth.
Or for those who just wanted to get away from everything familiar and start something new, as a way to forget about the wounds of the past.
"Fancy running into you here," Kumiko had said, forcing herself to smile. Instead, only a corner of her lip had twitched, making it seem like a crooked smirk instead.
Reina, however, hadn't thought anything of it and returned the smile, running a hand through her neck-length hair.
"Likewise," she had said, smiling that mysterious smile of hers, as if she had planned the entire thing alone and was reaping the results.
At that moment, Kumiko had realized, and still believed, two things:
Reina was still so goddamn beautiful
And
All the progress Kumiko had made to get over Reina was flushed down the drain when she saw that enigmatic beauty of a smile
"Kumiko."
Reina's quiet voice startled her more than it should have—the brunette jumped in her seat and nearly knocked over her cold cup of coffee.
"Y-yeah?" She asked, her voice squealing as she barely caught her mug from toppling over and spilling its contents all over the table and Reina's homework. She glanced up and saw the tiniest smile of amusement playing on Reina's lips. Kumiko felt her cheeks and ears burn, her heart ready to burst at the seams.
"It's almost the holidays," Reina said matter-of-factly.
Kumiko cleared her throat and attempted to relax—it didn't work. "Yeah, what about it?"
Reina spun her pen in between her fingers as she answered. "Are you planning on going home?"
"No, probably not," Kumiko's reply was short and curt and, for once, without hesitation.
Such a response caught Reina's attention and she stilled herself. The sound of the pen clattering to the floor seemed much louder than it actually was. "You aren't?"
"No. I'm not really planning on it."
"But won't Midori and Hazuki be there?"
That was a first—Kumiko couldn't recall the last time Reina actually addressed those two with their full names willingly. "Probably."
"You don't want to see them?"
Kumiko shifted in her seat as she shrugged. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable under this line of questioning. "I mean, it's not like I don't want to see them, but I just want to experience the holidays on my own, I guess. My sister said celebrating something so big without your family is a sort of initiation test to adulthood, so…."
A huff of amusement came from Reina. "Weirdo."
An indignant blush crept into Kumiko's face and she could taste her tone souring in her mouth. "Leave me alone."
Reina rested her elbow on the table, then propped her chin onto her palm. "I left you for almost half a year, if that counts."
Kumiko felt a cold wave crash into her, and even if she wanted to, couldn't find it in herself to fake a laugh.
The wound Reina was probing was closed, but it was still raw and stinging.
"A-anyways," Kumiko began uneasily, "are you planning on going back home for the holidays?"
"I'm the same as you—I'm not planning on it."
"Really?"
Reina nodded. "I guess I don't feel a need to go back."
A crooked smile came climbed onto Kumiko face; now was her time to get back at Reina. "But won't Taki-sensei be there?"
Reina's immaculate porcelain cheeks were smeared with red as she broke off their eye contact. "That's not important," she muttered, her voice meek and timid like a mouse.
It was Kumiko who chuckled this time; that was always her first line of defense. "That's surprising, because I thought Taki-sensei is someone who's important—"
"No," Reina interjected, suddenly finding her clarity. She looked Kumiko dead in the eye, and although her cheeks were still dusted red, there was no doubt that she was serious.
And seeing Reina actually upset about something never failed to dampen Kumiko's mood.
"S-sorry," Kumiko mumbled, looking off to the side. Reina's sudden sharpness stung Kumiko much more than it should have, and the brunette cursed herself for being so sensitive. She had heard worse from Shuuichi (or as she liked to call him, Shuushit), after all; so why did Reina's words carry so much weight? Kumiko didn't understand—
Wait, scratch that. She did understand.
It was because, after all her futile attempts to move on, Kumiko was still hopelessly in love with Reina.
A warmth covered her hand, and Kumiko looked down to see Reina's hand atop hers. Kumiko felt her heart flinging itself into her chest; she felt happiness swell in her like a crescendo; she felt her hand burning from Reina's touch; and, by God, it was so hard to swallow the grin that pulled on her face.
"Sorry," Reina whispered. Her voice was soft, but in the quiet of their apartment, Kumiko was able to hear her loud and clear above her own thundering heartbeat.
"It's fine," Kumiko said, replying in the same way.
"So," Reina began, tightening her hold on Kumiko's hand, "you're really not going back for the holidays?"
"Nope."
"So you're going to be staying here?"
"Yep."
"…Interesting."
"… Are you?"
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"So we'll be celebrating the holidays together, then."
"We will, won't we?" Reina gave an actual smile, a genuine smile, the same one Kumiko died over every time she saw it.
And with the way Kumiko's heart suddenly stopped beating and how her breath lodged itself in her throat, she honestly thought she was going to.
Then Kumiko could feel it. She could feel the words she had so desperately tried to tell the girl—no, the woman, in front of her. The first time she felt those words had been during their hike up the mountain during the Agata Festival; the second had been their first competition in their first-year of high school; the third had been at the summer festival, when they were basking in the afterglow and smoke of the fireworks; the fourth had been during the three-day summer camp, where they both fell asleep smiling with hidden, intertwined fingers; and there had been many, many, many times after that, but perhaps the most memorable of them all had been during the graduation ceremony.
They had been standing underneath the cherry blossom trees, the wind blowing the petals away to where God only knows.
"We made it," Kumiko had said, holding her diploma with clammy hands. Her heart had been hammering in her chest throughout the entire ceremony, and she had wondered if Shuuichi had felt the same way when he had attempted to confront her earlier.
"We really did," Reina had said with a laugh.
"So, I guess we're going our separate ways then, huh?"
"I suppose so."
"…Well then, I guess I'll see you somewhere along the way."
"…Yeah."
And when Reina had turned around and began to walk away, Kumiko had the strongest urge to yell those words on the top of her lungs, to scream at Reina and the whole world how she truly felt.
But instead, she had forced herself to swallow her guts, and hold onto the diploma in her quaking hands, so that she wouldn't breakdown on what was supposed to be a day of celebration.
Even now, Kumiko wished she found it in herself to tell Reina how much she actually loved her that day.
But here she was, holding hands with Reina, the same person that still held her heart despite all her efforts to take it back. Kumiko didn't believe in God or anything of the like, but she knew that ending up in the same university, let alone the same apartment, was more than a coincidence.
This just had to be another chance from Him. It just had to be.
The only problem was if Kumiko should take it.
"You don't have to spend the holidays with me if you don't want to, though," Kumiko found herself saying. Once her ears heard the words coming out of her mouth, her mind began to scream at her.
God, she was an idiot.
"What makes you say that?" Reina asked as she tilted her head to the side.
"Like, I don't know, you just don't got to stay with me because I'll be alone on my own here. I'll be fine, so if you have other people to be with or someone else,"—Kumiko's heart hurt at the sudden thought of Reina holding hands with some faceless stranger, and she had to pause to gather herself—"then you should go with them," Kumiko finished lamely, looking off to the side to avoid Reina's eyes.
"You know, even if I did have anyone else to be with for the holidays," the tightening grip on her hand compelled Kumiko to look back at Reina, whose eyes were, by some miracle, hard, yet gentle, "I would still choose to be with you."
Oh, God, Kumiko could just feel her heart ready to fail her.
"I-is that so?" Kumiko said, her tone unsure and shaky. She wanted to look away again, she really did, but Reina held onto her hand and gaze too tightly.
"Yeah," Reina said with a nod, "it is so."
"B-but why? I'm not as important to you as Taki-sensei, am I?" Kumiko's words flew out of her lips before she could stop herself. She quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and cheeks getting redder and redder with every passing moment. She cursed herself and desperately prayed to God or whoever was listening that Reina didn't hear what she just said—
"What does Taki-sensei have to do with anything?"
Ah, crap.
With much reluctance, Kumiko pried her fingers away from her face and finally found the strength to look away; she couldn't bear to carry the weight of Reina's eyes on her. Her heart was beating so hard and so fast, Kumiko was absolutely positive she would fall into cardiac arrest if she wasn't careful with her words.
But this was her chance to redeem herself, and finally, finally, say those words that were lodged in her throat. All she needed to do was cough them up and—
"Cheese," Kumiko sputtered out. Cold sweat rolled down her neck, and an intense silence filled the air. She screwed her eyes tightly and screamed internally.
God, she was an idiot.
"Kumiko," Reina said. Her voice was monotonous as usual, but her tone was clear and snapped at Kumiko like a whip.
"Y-yeah?"
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
Here it was.
"Y-yeah," Kumiko finally muttered, opening her eyes as she gave a heavy exhale. "There is." She slowly looked up, the words filling her mouth with their flavor. She was ready. She was going to do it. She was going to confe—
Kumiko felt herself shutting down when she saw the raven-haired magnificence in front of her.
Reina's hair, though a little unruly, framed her hair just right. Her eyes, a brilliant shining purple, glimmered in the unimpressive lighting of their dining room. Her cheeks, unmarred by any unsightly blemishes, were dusted with the lightest of pinks. And, dear God, her lips, so soft and full, were downturned in the tiniest of frowns as she waited for Kumiko's response.
There was no doubt that Reina was breathtaking. And, perhaps, at that moment, Kumiko found out what made Reina so special to her and why she fell so damn hard for Reina in the first place.
Then Reina's mask broke into one of mirth, her airy laughter singing through the air. "You look so dumb right now, it's ridiculous," she paused to chuckle, then relaxed into that genuine smile she had earlier. "Maybe that's why I love you so much."
Kumiko's words died in her mouth.
Did…did she hear Reina correctly?
"Kumiko, are you okay—"
"What did you say." It was more of a statement than a question.
"…I said I love you—"
"Oh, God," Kumiko slumped into her seat and covered her burgundy face with her hands. "Oh, God, this isn't happening," she said into her clammy palms, blinking rapidly when the stinging behind her eyes became too much to handle.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes!" Kumiko half-screamed half-squealed. "Yes, something is very wrong here!"
"…What's the problem?"
"You!" Kumiko exclaimed as she tore her hands from her face, the stinging in her eyes turning into a burn, "You're the problem! Because, I swear to God, if I knew that you felt the same way, if I knew that during our highschool days, then goddammit Reina, I would have said those words a long time ago because I was so scared because I thought you loved Taki-sensei and because I didn't know how you handle it and because—because—" Kumiko's words failed her again, and they converted into tears that began to spill from her eyes. "Y-you have honestly no idea how hard I've tried to get over y-you. All t-throughout high school, from o-our first-year t-to the g-graduation ceremony, to e-even now, b-because I didn't want to hurt anymore. It hurts a lot, you k-know? God, I'm an idiot…."
"While I do love Taki-sensei, nothing can ever compare to the feeling I get when I'm with you," Reina murmured fondly as she leaned forward ever so slightly to wipe away the tears rolling down Kumiko's cheeks. "I was waiting for ages for you to confess because I thought you felt the same way. And when you said nothing during the graduation ceremony, I thought all my hopes were for naught." A gentle smile pulled on her lips. "That's why I walked away…. Does that make me a terrible person?"
The brunette choked out a laugh. "It does."
"But at least I don't say 'cheese' out of nowhere."
"Leave me alone," Kumiko said with a smile. A plethora of emotions were churning inside of her: frustration, relief, an incredible amount of joy, and that overwhelming sense of love that left a fuzzy residue in her chest.
"Not until you say it," Reina said as she cupped Kumiko's wet cheek in her hand.
"Say what?"
"You know what I'm talking about, don't play dumb."
Kumiko laughed. It was genuine this time, the kind of laugh that made her feel light-headed and tingly all over, as if a passing breeze could take her away and she would be blown away, dancing like the cherry blossoms during their graduation ceremony.
But unlike that time, Kumiko finally, finally had the guts she needed to say those words.
"I love you, too."