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Kumiko is a big fan of two things—cute girls, and Rickenbacker guitars—and she finds fine examples of both at that very moment, right in front of her.
She’s beautiful, Kumiko thinks.
“Pardon?” The girl says, rather defensively, and looks up.
Great. Guess I said that out loud.
“Oh, um,” Kumiko stumbles, holding her hands up. “No, I’m sorry. I meant your guitar. I mean, no. You’re beautiful too, don’t get me wrong. I’ve just—I’ve never seen a 330 in person before and—“
The girl blinks a few times, not giving Kumiko a single iota of relief from her unintelligible babbling. It takes a few more seconds for her to finally trail off, after which the two just look at each other.
I’m gonna go crawl in a hole now.
“No, don’t do that,” the girl says, laughing as Kumiko smacks her left hand to her mouth. “Thanks, though. I do like this guitar a lot. Do you play?”
“Yeah,” Kumiko says, relieved to change the subject. “I’m in one of the bands that are playing tonight. I’m Kumiko.”
She bows her head a little, which the other girl, unexpectedly, counters with an extended hand.
“Reina,” the girl says. “Pleased to meet you.”
Kumiko takes the handshake, gets lost in how ridiculously soft Reina’s hands are, and instantly feels her own clam up.
“Sorry,” Kumiko apologises reflexively.
“Why are you apologising?” Reina says, furrowing her lovely brows.
“My, uh—my hands aren’t soft,” Kumiko says, though she really isn’t at all sure why.
“That’s okay,” Reina says, smiling. “But I reckon we’ll have to break this handshake at some point if we’re gonna play the show.”
“Oh,” Kumiko says, looking down at their clasped hands, and quickly lets go, shoving hers in the pockets of her black jeans. “Yeah.”
“So,” Reina starts, letting Kumiko breathe for a second. “What type of music does your band play, Kumiko?”
“Sad stuff, mostly,” Kumiko says, thinking about how much more she likes the sound of her name when Reina says it. “I’m the singer, too, if you can believe it.”
“You? Singing sad songs?” Reina says, clearly amused, and points at Kumiko’s Jeff Buckley t-shirt. “No, yeah. That about fits the bill, Lilac Wine.”
Wow, I think I’m in love with you, Kumiko thinks, and makes sure to not say it out loud.
“Yeah,” Kumiko says, biting her lip in spite of herself. “Um, what about your band, Reina?”
“I guess you could say…math rock?” Reina says, putting a finger to her chin in a way Kumiko loves. “So basically, sad stuff, like you, but with pretentious time signatures.”
Kumiko laughs, not expecting sardonicism from Reina, “Wow, that’s impressive. Math rock with a Rickenbacker? That’s not very comm—“
She is interrupted when she gets tapped on the shoulder from behind.
“Smarten up, Oumae. We’re up after the next band,” Asuka says and, looking past at Reina, who raises her eyebrows almost imperceptibly, smiles and winks at Kumiko. “You’ll have time to flirt after our set.”
She saves Kumiko from what would have been a series of unintelligible (and untruthful) denials, and Reina from watching Kumiko’s face blanche in horror, by pulling the girl away and towards their group.
Hm, Reina thinks, I might just take her up on that.
“What’s wrong?” Reina says, pulling lightly on Kumiko’s sleeve, who currently finds herself with her hands on her face.
“Huh?” Kumiko snaps up, and for a second forgets how to speak Japanese. “Reina.”
“Yes, that’s me,” Reina chuckles. “What happened?”
“Our resident disaster here forgot her guitar,” Asuka says, not quite sounding annoyed, but still clearly not very happy. “Singers, am I right?”
“I thought you checked the van before we left, Kumiko?” Midori says, patting Kumiko’s head.
“I did. I—I thought I saw it with your bass,” Kumiko tries, playing with the fingers on her left hand. “This isn’t good.”
“I don’t see the problem,” Reina says, indeed not sounding the least bit troubled. “You can just borrow mine.”
They all look at Reina, who simply points to the hard case a few ways away from her.
“I—I can’t do that,” Kumiko says, her eyes as wide as cymbals.
They now all look at Kumiko; Asuka in particular looks at her as if she had three heads.
“Wait, why not, Kumiko?” Natsuki says, idly twirling a drumstick in her right hand, and then turns to Reina. “You really wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Reina says, and gently faces Kumiko. “I don’t see you as the smashes-guitars-on-stage type, anyway.”
“Please, she treats instruments better than she does any of us.” Asuka says, blowing a raspberry and then, looking back and forth between Kumiko and Reina: “At any rate, she’ll owe you a drink afterwards this way.”
“Asuka, I swear to g—“ Kumiko starts.
“A drink sounds good,” Reina interrupts her, and Kumiko wonders how it is that everybody seems to be in control of every situation except for her. She watches Reina remove the guitar from its case and wrap the strap around her back. Reina then fixes the few wrinkles on Kumiko’s t-shirt, and pats a few stray, auburn hairs down. “Good luck.”
Kumiko doesn’t reckon she needs luck, since she’s having the best dream of her life.
Kumiko watches her band members step on stage, one at a time, starting the song piecemeal. Before going on herself, she spots Reina leaning against the wall next to the stage door. The performance adrenaline mixes well with the haze of the alcohol and the hormones Kumiko swears she hasn’t felt since she was 16.
“Thanks a bunch,” Kumiko says, leaning in close to Reina so as to be heard over the music. “I—I’ll get you that drink.”
“That’s nice of you, but—” she says and, before Kumiko knows any better, she is turned on her feet and pushed against the wall. Reina grabs Kumiko’s hands, pins them at both sides of her head and, slipping a slender knee between Kumiko’s legs (Kumiko thanked every single one of her lucky stars that the music drowned out the noise that came out of her), throws herself into a deep, anxious kiss that collapses all the noise surrounding them into a charged silence that makes Kumiko forget her own name. “It’s not a drink I want.”
Yeah, I’m dreaming. This is a dream.
“Kumiko, I swear to fucking god,” she hears Asuka yell, after who knows how many repeated bars they played, waiting for Kumiko to get on stage.
“It’s not a dream,” Reina says, rolling her eyes and turning Kumiko towards the stage. And then, whispering in her ear before pushing her forward:
“At least, it better not be.”