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"Had I uttered a word it surely would've betrayed me,
for I was still quite nervous and short of breath."
Sailing Alone Around the World - Joshua Slocum
The heavy, fresh vegetative scent of a midsummer rainstorm fills Kumiko's lungs in a deep green blush. It continues to coat her sinuses, to linger on her tongue, even after being in the dry air conditioned environment of Natsuki's room. It's her first time here, visiting the upperclassman's place, and even as a high school student Kumiko vague discomfort makes her self conscious - of how she sits, of how loud she speaks, how she looks around and takes the place in. She wouldn't have expected the pink walls or the plush carpet from Natuski's overall demeanor, but it's a comfortable place. It's lived in, with wrinkled bedsheets, tossed and undone as if she'd only just woken up, and books tilting or out-of place, leaning like tired commuters on the shelf against the wall. Natsuki's acoustic guitar sits atop a pile of clean-but-unfolded clothing in the corner of the room; the warm light settles on it almost like a spotlight, and while it is scuffed and clearly used, it does appear loved. Kumiko notices too a few large, colorful , untied hair ribbons on the nightstand beside the bed, and they definitely don't belong to Natsuki. It makes her smile, just a little.
"Hey, pass me the chips?" Natsuki asks.
Natsuki relaxes in a pair of blue athletic shorts and a black t-shirt, waving one open hand while hanging upside down on her bed, a magazine fanned out in the other. She looks over to Yuuko, who is painting her nails. It's a summer weekend, after all, and Taki won't be able to call her out on it until practice on Monday if she forgets to clean it off. The bag of chips lays open beside her, nearly spilling onto the carpet out of the silvery gaping mouth.
"Get them yourself," she says, not looking up. She paints carefully. It's coral pink, Kumiko notes from the bottle beside Yuuko, and she can see the color on Yuuko's nails softly reflected in the light coming from the ceiling.
"Not very nice of you, Yuuko."
"I'm in the middle of something here."
"You're cute enough as-is. Do you need nail polish like I need the chips?"
"What are you saying?!"
"I've got it, don't worry." Kumiko laughs as she sets aside a manga she borrowed from the bookshelf to lean over towards Yuuko, carefully grabbing the chips and leaning them on the bed beside Natuski. The room isn't too big, and she doesn't even need to move much. When she settles back into place, beneath the rain-dotted window, she folds her leg under her and tries to get comfortable once again.
Beep! Her phone alerts her of a new message. She pointedly ignores it, and the bright blue light reflecting onto the semi-gloss wall behind from the phone screen. She flips through the manga, eyes glancing over the bubbles and black, the stark images of crystals and fields, the expanse of the moon - but she can't draw a bead of focus. She bites her lip, huffs.
Another beep, another message. She groan involuntarily, and then covers her mouth with splayed fingers. This was the third or fourth text she'd ignored tonight, like homework you put off that nags with a self-important insistence.
"Alright, Kumiko, spill the beans - who keeps texting you?" Natsuki looks over with a cocked eyebrow and a wicked smirk, like she knows the answer and takes pleasure in Kumiko's problems.
"It's Kousaka, obviously." Yuuko rolls her eyes.
"Eek!"
"Sorry," the blonde says, "It's probably Kousaka. Obviously."
Natuski drops her magazine and rolls onto her back, the collar of her pajama t-shirt loose and exposing. Kumiko blushes and looks back down at the manga, thinking about her own lack of a bra, or what sometimes feels like her lack of a need for one. "So, is Yuuko right?"
"Not at all! Come on, this is a sleep over. I - I just don't want to be the kind of person who stares at her phone when she's around friends!"
The phone beeps again, and it's barely audible under Natuski's peeling laughter. "Don't tell me you only asked for a sleep over tonight to get your mind off of her."
"NO! Definitely not."
"Hahahaha! You're so red! Why do you ever even try to lie, Kumiko?"
Yuuko is hiding her own laughter when Kumiko hangs her head in her hands. She wants to die of embarrassment. or stomp out of the room. exasperated. And she might have if she had ever visited Natsuki's before this, but that same self-consciousness glues her to the ground.
Kumiko flips the phone over like a leaf, hoping to block the blue light of the screen. She hates the thing sometimes, the insistent nature of a device she could really live without - a little intrusion of the 'real world' in the midst of fantasies or daydreams, the focused zone of music she sometimes finds herself in or the pleasant nothingness of time with friends. But still, she can't turn it off either. The catch-22 of FOMO.
"Come on, we're friends, aren't we?"
A waft of shampoo-scented air spreads out when Kumiko violently shakes her head. "No, nope! Absolutely not! Nothing's going on. C-can't a girl just want to hang out with some friends once in a while? And - uh - not look at her phone for the rest of the night"
There's a drumroll of thunder outside, without the distinct flash of lightning. The rain is only pitter-pattering on the window and if she listens closely she can hear the wind wobbling, getting closer to a howl and then backing off, noncommittal.
"I have literally never heard anything more suspicious." Natuski throws a chip at Kumiko's head and it bounces off into her lap. Chewing gives her a few more seconds to ignore everyone else in the room.
"We're not Midori or Hazuki." Yuuko points out.
"I like you guys too, you know! I can have more friends than, like, three." Kumiko defends.
"But you needed to get to some friends who wouldn't geek out over Reina."
"Ehhh...that's not..." Kumiko squeaks out.
"Ha! Oh man, I'm not even offended. It's actually kind of adorable. It's adorable, isn't it Yuuko?"
Studying the pink of her finished nails, Yuuko hides a smile under her bangs. "Well, yeah."
Kumiko doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve as much as she sews it there, an identifying patch. Sometimes she wishes she could be like Asuka instead, able to hide anything behind a wink and a smile - or even Reina, who disregards conventions and manners like trash. But she can only be herself. She lays on the floor and spreads out to hopefully melt through the carpet and hide her feelings that way, if she doesn't have the glare of a pair of glasses like Asuka does.
"Come on, you know I'll get this out of you one way or another." Natuski says.
Yuuko interjects, "If she doesn't want to tell you, she doesn't have to. You're so rude." but when the girl on the bed raises a single eyebrow in responses, Yuuko grumbles, "It's not like I don't want to know too."
An embarrassed flush lights up Kumiko's cheeks, and she bites her lip to keep from speaking the words she wanted to spill all day. In a way, this is exactly what she had hoped would happen, for the same reason that she hadn't turned off the ringer on her phone. A taste of self-destruction, a purposeful wounding. She wants to hear the messages beep. She wants to be questioned, to have a reason to let it all out while still being the coward she knows she is. And this too is why she went to Natsuki rather than Hazuki and MIdori - her upperclassman doesn't have the same filter, or maybe the same respect for personal boundaries that her other friends do.
Another peel of thunder, and a gust of wind rattles the window behind her. Humid air seeps through the windowpane like whispered words, a heavy, wet layer of atmosphere and ozone that makes her shiver from the awkward dampness at her nape. She worries her bottom lip, chews at it, then cursing herself - a brass musician needs her lips - goes back to doing the same moments later.
"Ah, alright! Alright. I confess - I confessed to Reina this afternoon!"
"Wow, I didn't even have to try." Natuski looks genuinely surprised. "But you confessed!"
"How?! Where?" Yuuko demands. Kumiko watches her fold her face back into a more contained expression, like she cares only as a friend and not as a young girl desperate for romantic drama. "Uh, today, you said?"
"It just kind of...kind of slipped out."
"Not surprising," Natuski interrupts.
"Ugh, I know! It was after practice, and we were alone in the room where we keep the instruments." she begins, and places her head in her hands with the comical grimace of Charlie Brown. "Hardly the most romantic place. But you should've seen her..."
She doesn't remember the scene so much as she relives it there in Natsuki's room. Summer practice is the worse, she had thought then, as she pulled the uniform top away from her chest, pinching the cloth damp with sweat away from her body. Her thighs stuck to the metal chair she sat on in the shade of the Kitauji main school building, and when she stood, she twisted left to right, stretching her arm up in the air to get some blood flowing. It had been...five hours? She's unsure, really, her sense of time stopped up through her focus on during practice like a stuffy nose. It was definitely past noon, though, and she pat her growling stomach absentmindedly.
Kumiko walked awkwardly through the school hallways, her euphonium case hanging in one hand, the folded up chair constantly slipping as she held it under her other arm. Every few steps, the rubber-padded chair foot bumped against the floor, and she waved an apology when she saw her fellow bandmates in the rooms lining the hallways react to the sound.
Up the stairs and right outside of the Wind Ensemble's clubroom was the supply room where some kept their instruments, and where there were always extra reeds, resins, music stands, cleaning supplies, folding chairs - just about anything the ensemble might need. It's less cluttered than that would suggest - metal shelves lining the walls, drawers to the side of the room - but it's still old and dusty, and smells of plywood and teen spirit. The supply room has a large window at the back where Kumiko sometimes looks over the the phys-ed field and the students who practice there. She searched, but cannot find Reina.
But she didn't need to look for long. Reina approached silently behind her, her trumpet encased and in-hand.
"Kumiko," Reina said, "done with practice too?"
"Eek!" she squeaks, taken off guard, a hand on her quickly beating heart. "Reina, I...I-."
Her words fall away from her throat like rocks crumbling down a cliff. Baby blue and white, the colors of the summer uniform, really compliment Reina and her luscious black hair. The skirt flutters around her thighs while she twists to place her trumpet on the top shelf and rises higher and higher than Kumiko is ready for, with the same effect on her blood pressure. And that's before she sees the way her blouses rises just enough to show off her toned stomach. The air isn't sucked out of the room so much as it simply flees Kumiko's lungs along with her speaking skills. Reina is beautiful, and the deadly sharpness of her eyes, the heavy bluntness of her personality only serve to compound that beauty into something more melodic, a harmony of causes. The sunlight that throws itself through the window warms the room in color, temperature, and tone.
And so when Reina turns to her with the same kind of seriousness she does everything and says, "We should stop on the way home by that yakisoba place. The one by the station.", Kumiko could do absolutely nothing to stop herself.
"There was this flush on her cheeks from, I don't know, the heat, or the sun, or the exertion of practice. But she turned to me with this...this look on her face. And the sun behind her lit her up, and-and I just blurted it out! 'Reina,!' just like that, way too needy. 'Please go out with me.' . And she didn't say anything, just, you know, she's Reina, she looked at me like she didn't get it."
"Yeah, that sounds like her."
"And then she finished putting her trumpet away and straighted up her shirt and skirt, and before anything else could happen Taki-sensei walks in with his usual serious look...he said something about having to discuss some difficult part of the composition with her...oh it was just the worst. I wanted to die right there. Would've been better if she rejected me outright."
"...Maybe she didn't hear you?" Yuuko ventures uncertainly.
"She definitely heard me. She even told me to just go on home ahead without her before she left with Taki. Totally ignored what I said."
"Maybe she just didn't know what to say. It is Reina. What's she been texting you all night anyway?"
"I don't know."
"You haven't checked?"
Kumiko picks up her phone, weighs it in her hand like the messages might be adding to its heft and density, some kind of physical information overload. "What if she says something I don't want to see?"
"Isn't that just life?" Natuski answers. Kumiko is sobered just a bit as the world-wariness Natuski used to be full of - before the Taki-lead wind ensemble changed her life, before Yuuko loved her - seeps into her voice as if it never left, as if it is always waiting in the wind. She wonders, then, if people ever really change, or if changes are simply scaffolding being added to a life, there to traverse a whole history's worth of emotional strata.
"Way to kill the mood." Yuuko says. She squirms, however, smiling when Natsuki throws an arm around her shoulders.
Like a child skulking around a room when they're forced into picking up their toys, Kumiko scrolls through her unanswered messages frowning all the while. She passes an update on their practice schedule Taki sent earlier in the day and a few alerts in the group chat she shares with Hazuki and Midori, and then, finally, five - no, her phone beeps, six messages from Reina. Kumiko turns to show her friends the phone before she turns it back quickly when she's reminded of what Reina's name looks like in her contacts - it's Reina, followed by a pair of devil horns and a few too many heart emojis to be proud of.
"Read 'em aloud,"
"Do I have to?"
"Yes." Natuski answers, deadpan.
"Fine;" Kumiko grumbles.
"The first one is just my name. Just Kumiko." she reads aloud, scrolling up the screen. "Then, call me." she blushes, but is filled with a sinking feeling, like opening an envelope you think might be carrying bad news.
"Then call me again."
She pauses, looks up at Natuski and Yuuko, who look back rapt with attention. "And then...huh, it's a picture."
She touches the picture and it zooms open, filling her phone screen as she herself is filled with trepidation "Is this...is this my apartment?"
In the picture is the blue door of the apartment she shares with her mother and sister, rain speckled, the number and name plate obscured in the glare of the fluorescent light shining on it. But it's her apartment. She knows it immediately, as an instinct - the concrete walkway, damp and dark with rain, the burnished nameplate that isn't as shiny as it should be, the half-live potted plant beside the door.
"Looks like you better call her." Natuski says, smiling, but without the teasing smirk she so often wears. It's good advice, then, a genuine comment from the upperclassman and Kumiko feels a little bit better overall about the whole thing, at least for a while.
Anxiety gnaws her her ribcage, a lion already licking the bones of its prey, in those tense moments between the phone call's shrill rings and the moment that Reina picks up.
"I'm outside. Let me in." she says before Kumiko can even speak.
"Reina, I'm not home right now. You should've said something!"
"Where are you?"
"Why?"
"It's obvious I'm outside your home waiting to see you, isn't it? You said some things earlier - "
Her heart seizes. She doesn't want to hear anymore - doesn't want to hear that perfect tongue, those perfect lips say something like no, like, stop, like -
"L-look, just forget about all of that."
"Stop stuttering, Kumiko. If you're not home, where are you?" she pauses. "It's eleven at night, where could you be?"
"Where am I?" the question rings through Kumiko for a thoughtless second. She knows where she is., naturally, but the falling dominoes of what her question could mean - if Reina was asking -
"Should be an easy question."
"Natsuki's. I'm staying over Natuski's for the night, so..."
"Alright, text me the address."
And then, in a very Reina way, she hangs up. Kumiko holds the phone to her ear for a few seconds longer, hoping that maybe she could will Reina to call her back and get it all finished up over the phone. Time moves on, however, like it always does, and she closes her eyes for a moment before looking back up at her friends.
Yuuko clears her throat, expression somewhere between amused and concerned. "I have a feeling she's probably already on her way here. knowing Reina - not, uh, that I know her the way you do."
"Oh, she's definitely already on her way. Go ahead, my parents are out for the night. Send her my address." Natsuki says, "Didn't expect to get a show tonight, but hey," she shrugs, "Can't complain."
"Natsuki," Kumiko moans, "She's crazy - it's still raining out there. The trains aren't running this late at night! She's..she's..."
"She's Reina."
It's one more expression of Reina's selfishness, really, that Kumiko can't relax on what should be a joyful weekend evening. How could she, knowing that Reina is traveling in the dark, down rain-swept streets in the middle of a humid summer night? A young girl all alone in the rumbling of thunder. She's zoned out like she's half asleep with her face face pressed to the foggy, condensation-covered glass looking out into the dark. A tree in front of the home shakes in the warm breeze, rustling the leaves like it's playing an instrument. Fifteen minutes have passed since she received Reina's final text about being on her way, and Kumiko's leg keeps shaking impatiently, a racer raring to run. An idea keeps popping into her head, but she fights it off - it'd be useless. Stupid, really.
She glances at her silent phone, hoping it could keep alerting her like it had earlier.
Reina so often makes her feel this way - worse, rather than better, anxious and unsure - and if asked, she'd be hard-pressed to describe those times when Reina makes her feel strong, or necessary, or respected. Reina has a pressure to her, a physical force she exerts, and combined with her strong will and her lack of care as to how Kumiko feels about the way she gets dragged through the storm of Reina's emotion, her life has been a whirlwind ever since they reunited in high school.
A whirlwind she's addicted to, undeniably. There's something habit-forming about just being with the girl.
"So, which chords was I supposed to play again?" Yuuko asks Natsuki. The two are side-by-side on the bed, a bit in her their own world, comparing notes on playing the guitar. Natsuki has been teaching Yuuko the chords to a song she was writing, and as nice as it sounded Kumiko absolutely can't pay attention.
With another moan, another squeak, she makes up her mind -
"Hey, uh - you two - I'm going to do something stupid for Reina - "
"Again?" Natsuki interjects.
"- I'll be back."
She stands up, runs a hand down to nervously straighten her clothes. She's been in pajamas for a little while now, her own pair of athletic shorts a tank-top, but she knows she can't go out like this. She reaches into her travel-bag, pulls out a pair of jeans and an over-sized hoodie.
"And maybe have a few towels ready."
In the bathroom she argues wordlessly with her reflection about what she's about to do. The Kumiko in the mirror seems to judge her like a mother, a mix of concern and condescension about going out to get herself rained on, and that's before the possible emotional trauma. But she's trekked up mountains for Reina. She's taken on the role of a villain - gladly, at that - and risking a storm, or rejection, is just the next step up. She thinks that she couldn't argue if Reina accused her of being a glutton for punishment. She's beginning to think it herself.
Kumiko slips on her shoes and, without a rain jacket to depend on, just the large hoodie she was going to wear to bed. Donning it all feels like equipping armor to hunt a beast, or maybe to capture a mythical creature. She reconsiders; with Reina's mix of skill, beauty, and attitude. she does feel mythical. Unreal. Worse - unreachable. Kumiko's frozen in place at Natsuki's door. She listens to the rain slapping against the sidewalk, and in the distance, the slick waterwall sound of a car tire speeding through a puddle.
She nearly hyperventilates, pressing a hand to her shuddering chest. Still, like the storm clouds that pushed in during the sunny afternoon, Reina - or the news she carried - was coming for her regardless of whether she headed out into the rain or hunkered down the storm reached her here.
The rain falls heavily and frequent enough to be annoying, but nothing else. Only in the distance does thunder blast and lightning crash, and whatever gusts shake the trees are short lived, like the wind is a toddler occasionally throwing fits. Her hoodie is soaked through in minutes, as fat, plopping raindrops fall with a pressure she wouldn't expect from droplets of water. They weigh her clothing down until it pulls on her shoulders uncomfortably. But still, she walks out into it.
It's a quiet night, minus the rustling of the wind in the trees and the stamping of the rain onto the sidewalk - white noise night sounds, musique concrete. The noises change as she transitions from Natsuki's neighborhood towards Kitauji as a whole; gone are the chirping summer cicadas and the slamming of car doors as salarymen make it home, and these are replaced by the far-off jingling of bells on doors, the growl of buses and human chattering, even late at night, even in this sleepy little town. She crosses the overpass that shadows the river running through Kitauji, surrounded by rock-lined retaining walls. There's the bench, beside the cherry tree, where she sits once in a while after practice with friends - or frenemies, like Shu. Orange streetlights throw watercolor splotches onto the wet concrete, bent and pasted around the metal railing of the overpass. Carried on the wind comes the earthy smell of wet soil and dewy grass. the rushing silt of the river water green. She takes it all in, hoping to bury nature inside of her to calm her thrumming heart. As she draws closer, lights from the town markets and homes begin to brighten, like fuzzy squares of sparkling color against the backdrop of the cobalt-gray sky.
There are times she almost turns back during her walk. Every footstep was a question, every breath a doubt. She knows she can't run from Reina forever - even if if the girl arrived at Natsuki's and they left her out in the rain, Kumiko would have to see her at practice. They ride the same train home. They pass in the halls, on the street, in thoughts and dreams. Escape is itself a dream. Avoidance a hopeful thought. But her walk is full of stops and starts, mirroring the beating of her heart and the thoughts in her head. Rejection. Hatred. Disgust. Shame - it's impossible to think she's heading into something comforting and nice. Hope lingers in her heart, but it's a small light against a very dark night, flickering like a candle's flame.
And then a lonely figure, there, at the end of the overpass; feminine and resolute. Kumiko's body mimics her heart - she misses a step, nearly trips, catching herself only on the rainslick rails.
"I had a feeling it was you," Reina calls from a few meters away. "The tripping gave it away."
"Hello to you too."
Reina never stops walking towards her, and Kumiko holds herself for security, rubbing her arm unconsciously as if she were fighting off a chill. Even here, even now, - it's near midnight, humid and wet and Reina's soaked through in the cardigan she wears over a blouse and pleated skirt - all darkened with rain, soggy, and still - and still immensely, stupidly beautiful. Kumiko wonders how heavy her hair is, so thick and black, and now wet, weighing down her shoulders. In the sunset light of the street lamp, even those ever-enchanting amethyst eyes are enhanced, darkened into the black-purple of deep space and speckled with glittering reflected light.
Kumiko wants to slap herself for the over-the-top commentary running through her head, but in this moment, she's happy enough that it isn't spilling out of her mouth like teeth in a fever dream.
"You know," Reina begins - and is that a blush on her running across her cheeks? "You distracted me today. Badly."
"I distracted you? Pretty sure that that's impossible -" she grumbles,
"I couldn't pay any attention at all when Taki was speaking to me after practice. You know what it's like to be embarrassed in front of someone you respect?"
"Yes! Of course I do!" Kumiko is almost angry that she's admitting to something so shameful, and so readily at that. But Reina always had that kind of power over her. She wipes a wet strand of hair that's fallen across her face. "But why were you embarrassed?"
"Because you you confessed! And at school, of all places. You really spilled your heart out at a really awful time, you know that?"
"Well I'm sorry for for not having control of my emotions."
"I'm glad you see it my way."
Kumiko throws her arms up. "Its raining! Can we please get out of the rain so you can embarrass me when I'm not soaking wet?"
"I don't remember asking you to meet me out here; I was heading to you at Natsuki's You came out here on your own."
"I know. I know! It's - it's because I...care about you."
Reina has the good sense to look concerned about something outside of the wind ensemble for once. "I know you do. I've never doubted that for a moment."
Thunder interrupts whatever Kumiko wants to say next. She watches rain trail down Reina's face and clenches her fist to stop herself from reaching out to follow that trail with a finger.
"Let's get going " she says instead, "Taki will kill us if we both catch colds."
And as they set out back towards Natsuki's home, through forest green trees and curtains of rain, it is very hard to keep her mouth closed. Harder still to stop from grabbing Reina's swinging hand.
Kumiko sags her shoulders. She's wet, somehow sweating even beneath the rain, and her shoes are soaked through. They squelched as she walked, an irritating sounds. She knocks again, a little louder this time; maybe Natuski just didn't hear the door. Still, there's no answer.
"Could they have fallen asleep?" Reina asks, reaching out to try the knob, and dropping her hand when they're reminded again that it's locked.
"They were playing music when I left, maybe it's a bit too loud." Kumiko says. She knocks again.
Reina turns from the stoop to look out into the dark of the rainy night. "We could go to my place if they don't answer."
"Ehhhh~!" Kumiko's eyes widen, as if she meant -
Then the door swings open quickly, as if by magic. On the other side is Natsuki - blushing, unable to look either girl in the eye, adjusting her disheveled shirt. pulling up the side of her drooping, twisted pants. She places a hand on her hip.
"You guys got back" she coughs, "Quicker than I thought you would."
"Can we come in?" Reina seems to look entirely past the situation even as Kumiko's cheeks warm with the realization.
"Yeah, please," she waves them in. "Yuuko - do you have the towels?"
The girl in question comes sliding into the room, almost slipping on the shiny tiles. Her own hair and clothing are disheveled, but she holds out the bundle of towels towards Kumiko and Reina without drawing any attention to her condition.
"Here" she says, "Hello Reina,"
"Yuuko," she nods, "Natsuki."
The older girl smiles wide, easy. "Having a nice night?"
"I'm soaking wet." Reina answers, deadpan.
"You hear that, Kumiko?"
"Natsuki, oh my God " she responds entirely mortified.
"Natsuki!" Yuuko, blushing even redder, reprimands, "That's it - you're done for the night. Come on - " she turns to Kumiko and Reina, "Come up to Natsuki's when you're ready."
And then that's it - they're left alone in Natsuki's kitchen, the room closest to where they've entered. The overhead light hums with invisible static. The tiles are too clean and white. Kumiko peels off her wet hoodie, sticking to her like a second skin, and begins drying her hair. She can't help but to glance over at Reina every few moments. The way she pulls off her cardigan to expose the blouse sticking to her skin, shapely and tight. And then she notices Reina noticing her, looking up through those long, dark eyelashes and then looking away. Towards, then away. Towards again. It's hypnotic, and whatever part of her mind is still aware of anything knows that she's doing the same.
"If you're going to look, just look. You're awful at hiding it." Reina finally says.
"I, uh, I wasn't."
"You're getting to be a worse liar every day."
Kumiko feels the anxiety plummet into her chest, and her tongue readies itself to just let loose once again. In the corner, the refrigerator kicks on, competing with the hum of the overhead light. It all feels too loud, like the world is trying to fill her ears before Reina's words do. "Can you just say it?"
"Say what?"
"You know what - it's...it's what you're here for, isn't it?"
"Fine." Reina beings, "I said it before, but you were totally, absolutely embarrassing at practice today." Kumiko doesn't want to believe that she's seeing Reina blush. She believes it has to be a trick of the light. "What if someone - what if Taki overheard us? I don't want my personal life to get in the way of my career. It's not like I don't understand that my personality already does that."
Kumiko almost wants to laugh, but she's too curious to make a sound. At least Reina recognizes her issues.
"There are many better places for you to have spit your heart out all over my hands."
"What is - what is that supposed to mean? What are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say that, of course I like you - " she rolls her eyes but it feels forced, a strangely self-conscious maneuver for the blunt girl "Yes, like that. I wouldn't have let you get so close to meotherwise, wouldn't you think?"
"Y-yeah? But - "
"But what?" Reina turns her head, tilting it, with her hair shining in the light. "Can you just not handle it? Couldn't you see it at all?" And then, almost under her breath, like she is talking to herself, "I even said, this is a confession of love..."
"But, for months - you, I - "
"You were entirely obvious about your feelings. If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked." she pauses, pressing a finger to her pursed lips in thought, "In the right place, of course. Not in a supply room at school."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Kumiko says, exasperated, throwing her fists down at her side. She's not sure whether she feels relieved right now, or the fiery touch of anger, or giddy. It's terribly messy, her heart, like if paint were splattered over the clean white kitchen they are standing in.
"I wasn't going to try and get more distracted," Kumiko watches Reina gulp, disbelieving everything she's hearing. "Let's be honest; I bet, under that good-girl mask of yours Kumiko, you're probably the type who needs a lot of affection."
Kumiko's heart doesn't skip a beat so much as it clenches too tightly, too quickly, for too long. She wonders if maybe this isn't a dream, and before she can pinch herself, she knows she's awake because of how fast her heart kicks back into gear when Reina comes over to her with a towel and begins running it down her hair. They're close, very close, and Kumiko fights that desire for affection by folding her fidgeting fingers together.
"You often call me special," Reina says, "But there are some things that are hard for me too."
Twenty minutes later and they're resting in Natsuki's room. A movie plays on the tv in the corner, something old and American and romantic - but it's hard to pay attention when she has Reina's head in her lap, the black hair like a blanket draped over her knees. She fidgets, unsure where to place her hands - is it okay to run them through those luscious locks? Or rest them on Reina's shoulder? Or place one there, on her toned stomach and the warmth of the sacral chakra? They'd changed in the kitchen, unwilling to drag their wet clothes across Natsuki's home into the bathroom, or soak her carpet, and now, after a few moments that were entirely too awkward and alluring and funny and altogether charged as they un-and-redressed - Kumko, into the pajamas she had on earlier, and Reina into a large t-shirt Natsuki let her borrow - they are settling into a new normal, or so Kumiko hopes.
"Stop fidgeting"
"Sorry"
"Stop apologizing
"S- " She stops her lips, gulps.
"Good"
"Quiet down, this is a good part - " Natuski shushes. She softly pulls a sleeping Yuuko closer to her side on the bed.
"How many times have you watched this?" Reina asks.
"You can never watch a good movie enough times."
It takes a quiet second before it's clear to Kumiko that there's nothing more that she can want. Not at this moment in time. Not at this moment in her life. To be here with Reina, to be surrounded by friends, to have a grand couple of weekend days ahead of her - all her plans erased, wiped off the white board, now that she can fit Reina into any and all of them - it's intoxicating. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, her heart from all its racing.
She feels like she is still catching her breath.
The summer air - the summer storm is filling her lungs, but she knows too that tomorrow will be all hazy and gold, the sunlight blasting through dewdrops and rippling puddles. Maybe they'll go for a picnic. Maybe they'll fit themselves in a dark room, the blinds drawn 'til only sharp white slivers of sun slant through, the air conditioning making the room arctic enough to justify the blanket she'll wrap herself and Reina up with.
Or maybe it'll storm again, and she'll have Reina's hand to hold tightly when the thunder rumbles - not because she's afraid, but because now she can.