Chapter Text
Allowing themselves to dream came with the understanding that, sooner or later, they would wake up and return to their lives. Everyone told themselves that making memories was important, but there was hardly any time to reflect during the crunch of final exams and college applications. And by the time those were over, graduation was upon them. In the rush of moment after moment, collecting like stones at the bottom of a pond, the event the Kitauji wind ensemble had dedicated itself to for three years wasn’t forgotten, but it resounded less and less with each passing day.
It was a shockingly quick thing, like tearing off a band-aid, when the day finally came. Now, as they neared the end of the line, they fell silent. Naturally, Kumiko sat next to Reina on the train to the Kansai International Airport. The trip was awkward. Neither one of them wanted to look the other in the eye, and there was a lot of fidgeting in their seats while they tried to figure out the ideal distance between one another. The boundaries they had shared up until now were failing them at the time when they needed them most.
Reina was taking an early flight, so they had a perfect view of the sun in the eastern sky, illuminating them with its morning rays. It was so much like her to do that, Kumiko had thought, with a combination of bitterness and swelling affection. Reina had never been a time waster, which made her the polar opposite to someone like herself. She wanted to get out as soon as she could so she had no time to think about how much she’d miss home. It was a natural thing to do, but Kumiko’s heart ached anyway. Reina was more precious to her than anyone in the world, and even if she knew she was special to Reina too, that wasn’t enough to put her mind at ease. Parting, especially when she wasn’t sure exactly how long it would last, was a prickly thing. No matter how hard she tried, she never felt strong enough to be ready.
Once the second-to-last stop had come and gone, Kumiko leaned up against Reina casually, effortlessly, and tenderly took her hand. Reina squirmed for a second, taken aback by the public display when she had thought she was in the clear…but she had no option except to play along. Kumiko’s earnest affection denied all counterpoint. There was no way she could actually turn her away when she put her heart into it like this.
Kumiko’s auburn curls weaved together with the raven curtain of Reina’s hair. The way their shoulders fit against each other, matching pieces of a puzzle that answered each other’s unspoken anxieties, brought Kumiko a dreamlike happiness. She reveled in the feeling of Reina’s fingers interlocked with her own, tenderly caressing and feeling out every contour and wrinkle of each other’s palms. The slow, methodical motions of her thumb over the surface of Reina’s skin showed painstaking care. This was the real threat presented by the president of the wind ensemble, even if the girl herself was barely aware. At all times, she was a whirlpool that threatened to suck one into the depths just by being herself—stubborn and greedy and relentlessly kind to the end.
If Reina wanted to escape, she made no move to. She let herself be taken in by Kumiko’s desire. For her, what happened next was agonizing. The time it should have taken to reach her final stop flattened and dragged itself out like a snake being dragged across a bed of hot coals. Just the touch from the other girl could make her feel like the fires of hell were licking at her flesh. For Kumiko, their last tender moment had the opposite problem. Each instant felt half as long as it should have been, and the final destination that would spell the end of this gentle dream was coming at her so fast. She wanted nothing more than to pretend that every day would be just like this. The two of them, finding comfort in each other’s familiar presences.
The automated voice, with a cadence like a rounded edge, interrupted their parallel trains of thought. Their stop was next, and there were precious few minutes left. Kumiko sat up straight, and instinctively tightened her squeeze on Reina’s warm hand. Taking it on herself to break the tension, Reina leaned forward to catch Kumiko’s eye contact with a glowing smile. She flexed her fingers, making their palms rub together, and Kumiko was suddenly nervous that hers might be sweating.She stared for a few seconds, in too much awe to register comfort at first. Reina’s otherworldly beauty was always difficult to wrap her head around. After shaking off the immediate shock, she returned the smile, but her reflection of it was just a bit shakier.
Whether they had any last-minute fears or not was irrelevant when the doors slid open. The pair stood at almost the same time, doing their best to avoid the rush of passengers off- and onloading. Kumiko stood by while Reina collected her luggage. “I’ll see you off at the entrance,” she said, in a manner that reminded Reina of an overly affectionate dog most of all. Kumiko would probably follow her all the way to her gate if she were allowed to.
“Fine then,” Reina replied simply, her smile having faded to the merest of shadows across her lips. She wrapped her warmth in a cold shell, making it a game of keep-away. Even that was endearing. “I’m making good time, so let’s not waste it,” she added, standing in the open doorway.
“Oh, right, right,” Kumiko muttered, having forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other over the course of the train ride. She followed in Reina’s wake, emerging into the airport that was humming with life and motion, and all the while became maddeningly aware of every single aspect of Reina’s form. Between the gentle sweeping motions of her hips as she ascended the stairs, the poised delicateness of her footsteps, and the rhythmic swishing of her silken hair, Kumiko was consumed. She bit her lip in frustration. This entire process was an exercise in letting sand slip through her fingers. She was just supposed to be content with seeing Reina off, when there was still so much for them to do? It didn’t sit right with her. It never could. This was just… unfair.
When Reina’s retreating back suddenly stopped, Kumiko had to catch herself before running into her head-first.
“I guess... this is it,” Reina said, a rare note of hesitation in her voice as she turned about face with one hand on her rolling bag.
“Ahaha, I guess it is…” Kumiko laughed nervously, scratching the back of her suddenly incredibly hot neck. “At least we got here in plenty of time. I mean, not that we were ever in danger of being late. “Oooh, I hope your flight goes well. I still remember that flight to Okinawa for graduation and that one was—”
“Kumiko.”
“Yes?!”
“Look at me.”
Kumiko’s amber eyes slid into place seamlessly, locking with Reina’s. She had been avoiding them, looking up at the door or down at the ground. She cursed herself. It felt somehow perverted to be so taken in by her every feature, while not even having the ability to look Reina in the eyes. The serene pools of purple that reflected light back at her were as striking as always, rooting Kumiko to the spot as if she’d been turned to stone.
“I’ve been telling you for years that I’m going to become special. You know that, right?”
“You’re already special, but yeah. Wouldn’t doubt it for a second, you can kill me if I ever do.”
“I will,” she replied with a sad smile. “But I can’t focus on my playing if I’m always worrying about you. So promise me that you’ll take care of yourself while I’m gone.” Reina put her hands on Kumiko’s shoulders for emphasis, fingertips digging in just a bit too tight.
“I’m not a kid, you know. But…” Kumiko laid a hand over Reina’s on her left shoulder, gently squeezing and returning the smile, fighting back tears. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“Thank you.” Reina’s smile showed teeth, gleaming white. The radiance that took Kumiko’s breath away came at her suddenly and fast, as Reina leaned in and embraced her. A tremor ran up Kumiko’s spine. This was the dreaded goodbye hug, wasn’t it? It took her a moment, but she slid her arms around Reina. It was just then that she realized they were trembling. It felt hard to breathe. Her eyes and nose felt choked.
“I love you,” Kumiko exhaled all at once, the shoulder of Reina’s dress muffling her voice. Her grip tightened, her hands exploring the terrain of the other girl’s back while she swayed back and forth on her heels. “Reina…” Her lips released the name like a prayer.
“I love you too,” Reina whispered. Kumiko’s stomach would usually be doing somersaults at hearing that, but all it managed to call forth now was a hollow sense of loss.
Reina slowly disentangled herself from Kumiko and pulled away, still smiling. Their time was up. Her eyes were wet. Shimmering.
“I’ll call you when I land. Oh, but you probably won’t be awake, will you?”
“We’ll see,” Kumiko said. A lie of omission. She already knew she would.
“Okay…” Reina readjusted her trumpet bag and took her roller in hand. “See you, Kumiko.”
“Bye bye.” It was the only thing she could force out after several tortured attempts. The hardest part of the entire journey was watching Reina’s back slowly recede into the maddening crowd coming and going from the airport. Her fingers twitched and her hand hesitantly outstretched. Should she say something? Call for her to come back? Express her real feelings? A painful memory lanced through her head like a nail.
‘I’m going to study music, learn lots, and become as good a performer as my dad.’
‘And when you do?’
‘And when I do… I plan to confess to Taki-sensei.’
She had laughed, then. Out of nervousness, or maybe just to play off her pain. She couldn’t dream of laughing now. Her hand balled itself up into an impotent fist and her arm crumpled to her side. Even surrounded by people, Kumiko felt hopelessly alone.
The train ride back to Uji was predictably quiet. That wasn’t strange in itself; there weren’t as many passengers at this time of day. But this time it felt especially hollow. Kumiko hadn’t always ridden the train with company, but she often did with Reina. And even if she hadn’t, the knowledge that she was just a text away was never far from her mind. But what was she supposed to do now? The answer was that there was nothing she could do, nor was there anything to do in the first place. That thought was endlessly frustrating. It hadn’t been so long ago that she had sworn to keep her eyes on her goals, even if Reina were far away. How easy it had been to make those promises when she was still standing right beside her.
Sure, they could still talk to one another. And it wasn’t like Kumiko didn’t have other friends. Hazuki, Midori and Shuichi had all graduated with her and were close at hand to have her back. Her old seniors from the band were happy to talk to her, and a few juniors too, even if the idea of seeking out a high schooler for companionship now that she had left it behind bordered on unthinkable. Despite all that, she had definitely lost something precious to her. Reina would have her own schedule and be awake at almost opposite hours. They would miss each other way more often than not, and it just wasn’t the same. And she had let so many possibilities escape with her…
A long sigh left her body as she looked up at the ceiling. The rhythmic rise and fall of the train could almost lull her to sleep if she weren’t so troubled, but the cloud of discontent just wouldn’t allow her any relaxation. She pulled out her phone, checking the time. It was 10:57. Roughly thirty minutes had passed since she’d seen Reina off. About an hour and a half separated her from home. Wincing at learning just how little time had elapsed, Kumiko opened her contacts and texted, asking Reina to let her know when she was taking off. She didn’t expect her to see it right away, but reaching out in some way was the only thing she could think to do. Was that too desperate of her? It definitely was, wasn’t it?
A few minutes passed, and then a few more. A buzz from Kumiko’s phone heralded a reply:
Reina ♥
I will. I just checked my
bag and sat down at my gate.
that’s good, hope u
don’t get delayed or anything
My biggest problem from here
on out is going to be boredom.
I brought some books to
kill time in my carry-on, though.
what did u bring?
I brought a copy of
The Glass-Bead Game.
My dad recommended it to me.
It’s a long one, so it
should
keep me occupied a while.
never heard of it, but it
sounds like something u would read :p
What’s that supposed to mean?
way too smart for me :p
They carried on bantering like that for a while. Reina’s upbringing had exposed her to a lot of books from a young age, and it also meant that she was interested in all kinds of weird stuff. Kumiko wasn’t an idiot or anything—she had a thing for a well-written horror novel, actually. But the names of the foreign authors Reina was interested in at any given time went over her head a lot. She never really felt bad about it though. If anything, it only emphasized how special Reina was, and her broad tastes only made her more attractive.
Anyway! I’m going to
crack this one open.
I’ve been waiting for the
chance to get started.
ok, i’ll leave u to it then.
just keep me posted!
I will, I promise.
Kumiko found it hard to get in a final word after that. Was she being too overbearing? It was hard for her to say, so she just let the topic drop. Reina had given her word, and that was all she could really ask for. The conversation was nice, and let her pretend that Reina wasn’t quite gone, but it did little to change her mood. She checked the time again. 11:21. Still more than an hour left. The absolute last thing Kumiko felt like doing was sitting still on this train for that hour. She needed to do something, anything else as an outlet, instead of just stewing. She picked up the boxed lunch she’d bought at the train station and tucked into it. It wasn’t much, but rifling through the cheap food briefly took her mind off the whole mess. After she had had enough of scrounging for individual grains of rice from the bottom of the container, she resorted to her phone. Checking emails. Scrolling Instagram. Playing that new gacha that Hazuki and Shuuichi had talked her into downloading. Just when she thought she had gotten the hang of the actual game, a droning tone from above let her know that Uji Station was the next stop.
As the train slowly ground to a halt, Kumiko released a sigh of relief she hadn’t known she was holding. As time wore on and the heat of the day climbed and climbed, she had feared the train might become a coffin for her. She stood up and stretched, shaking off the fog of sitting in one place for the better part of two hours. She tossed her now-empty boxed lunch on her way out, and started for home. Just being in a familiar environment calmed her nerves a bit, but she couldn’t lie to herself about her own dissatisfaction.
After leaving the station, Kumiko felt a building desire to get her spinning thoughts out of her head. Just to talk to someone about the conflicted things she was feeling. And she felt like she needed a perspective with more experience. Under the heat of the mid-day sun, she pulled open her contacts again.
“You’re lucky I’m on break right now,” Mamiko said, her playfully disparaging tone coming across crisply from the other side of the phone. Her line of work as a beautician had been going smoothly, despite everything. It was lucky that Kumiko had caught her when she did.
“Yeah, yeah.” The bereaved little sister sent a deadpan response back, not taking the jabbing seriously. It was something she’d long become used to. “So, um… Onee-chan, I’m feeling really screwed up today, and I was hoping we could talk so I can sort some stuff out.”
A few seconds passed as Mamiko silently re-evaluated, changing gears from coy to responsible in a way that only an older sister could. “What kind of stuff?”
“So, you know how I told you about my friend Reina? And how she’s going to an American music school?” A dull pain throbbed through Kumiko’s chest at having to call Reina her friend.
“Mhm… Did she leave today, by chance?” Mamiko asked, needling right to the point.
“Yeah. I just got off the train back to Uji. I saw her off and stuff and I’m feeling... bad, honestly. I’m feeling bad. We were just really close, you know? So it hurts for her to leave. We talked a lot about it before today, but it’s different when she’s not actually with me. That makes sense, right?”
“Well that sucks. And yeah, ‘course it does. It always hurts to lose something you care about. Just have to roll with the punches and take that stuff as it comes. I was the same as you with friends, never had a lot of them so whenever I lost one it was a big deal. But you can bounce back. You’re starting at university soon anyway, right? There will be lots of opportunities to meet people.”
“Yeah,” Kumiko replied listlessly. She supposed nothing would be good enough to miraculously make her feel better, but it bothered her just how quickly her sister was trying to blow past what happened. Moving on was important, but giving it at least a day wouldn't kill her. “I just feel like I won't be able to replace what I lost.”
“You’ll still talk to her sometimes, right? It’s not like she totally cut you off or anything.”
“I know, I know, but it’s just not the same.” Frustration was building in her voice. It was hard to remember a time before they were friends anymore, and a steady stream of shared memories cascaded through Kumiko’s brain. Now she just had to go back to living without her?
“Okay, alright… I’m sorry, I know you're hurt." There was a loaded silence as both of them thought on what to say next. Kumiko overheard a deep breath from the other end of the line. "But it's not good to wallow in it, either. You called and asked for my help, so let's talk," Mamiko added firmly.
Kumiko's brow twitched. It seemed like her sister was awfully insightful today. A chance to indulge in her misery was exactly what she wanted. "Right..."
"I get that you guys were super close, but obviously your friend went all that way for a reason. But you've got your own goals, right? You're not attached at the hip."
Reluctantly, the gears of Kumiko's brain started turning to process her feelings. “I know you're right, it's just... Reina always tries so hard. She bleeds talent and effort and wants to make something of herself with that. I can accept that. I mean, that's what makes her so amazing to me." A warm smile tugged at her lips for a moment despite her mood. "But it's going to take a lot of adjusting now that she's not here setting the pace of my life anymore... I might as well be willing to put all the energy I can toward this teaching thing, right? I guess that's the best thing to do.”
“For sure. You know what you want, so just keep college at the front of your mind and try not to let it bother you. I bet she feels the same way about having to leave, for all it's worth. I know it hurts right now, but I bet it would mean a lot when you see her again if you put how much you miss her aside and try as hard as you can for yourself. And I know you can do it, too, because your Onee-chan believes in you~” she cheered, with a sudden burst of energy.
Kumiko allowed herself a real smile in response to the encouraging comment. Mamiko had to leave behind a lot of things to make her dreams into reality too, and that gave her words inherent weight. But when she said so confidently that Reina felt the same way as Kumiko… It was hard to wrap her head around, considering the complicated ping ponging of I-love-yous and did-she-mean-it-like-thats around the inside of Kumiko’s brain. They had shared so much of their time and lives together over the past few years, so it only made sense that Reina would be hurt too. Knowing that, Kumiko couldn’t possibly hurt her further by giving her reasons to regret leaving. If she were honest, the whole conclusion had a hollow ring to it. But this would just have to be a time where she faked it until she made it, since she wasn't spoiled for choice.
“Thanks, Onee-chan. It means a lot to hear that from you,” she replied after a long silence. “I hope I didn’t bother you too much on your break from work.”
“’Course not, Kumiko. That’s what big sisters are for, right?” Her tone was so warm, just like it was in all their fondest memories.
The younger of the two had to try very hard to suppress her urge to cry, as a mixture of impassioned feelings welled in her chest. “Um… alright, I’m gonna head home now. Thanks again for talking.”
“Sure, any time. Bye bye~! Good luck on starting university soon. Oh, give Mom a kiss from me!”
“Okay, okay. See you," Kumiko chuckled.
While she walked home, Kumiko looked over her last few texts with Reina again. She always felt like she was looking for just one more word from her, chasing every last bit that she could get. Sometimes she got more, and sometimes she didn’t, but no matter what, she was never satisfied with how much she had. As she stared at the last few messages recorded between them, she reminded herself of what her sister said. This was hard for Reina too, so Kumiko had to try harder than ever to support her. She just had to file away the regrets she had, and stay focused on the future.
Kumiko woke with a start. Her arms and legs were splayed erratically across the bed, which left her wondering if she’d had a bad dream at some point. Suddenly jerking up, she reached for her phone on her nightstand—it was important that she stay on top of the time. It was still dark out, so it had to be early in the morning… It was a little past 4 in the morning. Kumiko had overshot her 4:30 alarm by a little, but there was no sense in going back to sleep. Instead, she hauled herself up and out of the covers, so she wouldn’t be tempted. Reina was supposed to be touching down soon, and there was no way Kumiko would miss her first phone call from America. She would be jetlagged and irritable, probably, but just hearing her voice in any state was worth it.
As she slipped her bare legs out from underneath her comforter, Kumiko flipped on her bedside lamp. Boxes were scattered about, carrying all sorts of things from her increasingly barren room, like books, a new desklamp, some favorite knick-knacks and so on. She was supposed to be moving into a dorm in Kyoto University within the week. She tried not to think about it too much, but that was hard when it was so close.
Stretching, Kumiko stood up and slouched her way over to the table in the middle of the room. In a ritual she had been performing for years by now, she stared deeply into the verdant flesh of her pet cactus, as if she could melt a hole into it with her eyes. It occurred to her that her cactus had never really grown up. It looked the same now as it had when she got it in middle school. It was weird to think of it like that, considering how much had changed for her since then. Those plants were supposed to have long lifespans, though. Some lived over thirty years. Maybe it only seemed like it hadn’t changed because it was growing so slowly?
“I’m going to be in college soon,” Kumiko mused out loud. “It feels weird to say that. That’s always been something out of my reach. Onee-chan or Asuka-senpai are my idea of college students, and I stay right where I'm at because I'm just a kid. But I guess I’m the grown-up now, huh?” she asked, laughing dryly. She couldn’t help but wonder why those were the two examples she thought of, but they made plenty of sense. As her sister, Mamiko had inspired the love of music that was so important to her now. She had always served as a role model and a shoulder to cry on, even after moving out. As her senior, Asuka had always seemed like an unreachable ideal. Kumiko knew firsthand that she wasn’t as perfect as everyone liked to think of her, and that was part of what made her so special. But it was impossible not to be a little overwhelmed.
Her thoughts drifted back to the day she had welcomed her to Kitauji with open arms, shining like the sun. And the image of the young woman from her last visit to that Kyoto apartment was permanently chiseled into her brain. If Reina was able to take Kumiko’s breath away with her otherworldly presence, Asuka was like a battering ram that left her feeling concussed just from looking at her. The feeling of Asuka’s fingers in her hair, still on her mind despite being almost two years old by then, made her ears run hot. Gripping her long curls in both hands, Kumiko sighed dramatically and rocked back and forth with her knees to her chest. How embarrassing was it that she couldn’t hold to a topic of conversation when her partner was a plant?
“Well,” she started again, clearing her throat. “I don’t feel like an adult, no matter what people around me say. I’ve changed a lot, and everyone says that’s the same as growing up, but something about that just doesn’t click in my head… Maybe I’ll start to feel it after classes start and I’m living away from home.”
Kumiko lay her head across her knees and checked her phone. Nothing had come in yet. Maybe Reina would just take a while to get into a position where she could make the call. It was still sort of early, after all. “She didn’t forget, did she?” the girl asked no one in particular. It came out as a half-joke, but the idea ran down her back like a cold shiver. The moment finally came after a few unceremonious minutes of rolling across the floor like a hedgehog. The ringtone, a sample from Salut d’amour, was a tune that had a peculiarly angelic quality to it. It felt like a message from heaven, breaking through the clouds to uplift the lowly Kumiko, rolling in the muck of the earth. The unworthy creature in question scrambled into an upright position, answering so quickly she almost forgot to lower her voice to not wake her parents across the hall.
“Reina?” Kumiko’s voice was ever so slightly strained with early morning grogginess, but she managed to force the word out all the same.
“Kumiko…” Reina’s response came without missing a beat. It had been 18 hours since she’d last heard her voice. Less than a full day, and yet knowing where she was going made it feel like forever. Her tone expressed clear surprise at how fast the answer had come. “What time is it back home? It must be, uh…” Her hesitation betrayed the fact that she was exhausted. It only made sense to be, having flown halfway across the world and all.
“It’s like, a quarter to 5 in the morning,” she answered honestly, without bothering to think about how she sounded. “I, uh…set an alarm so I wouldn’t miss your call. I wanted to talk to you as soon as you landed.”
Reina giggled gently and the phone picked up just enough of it to hitch Kumiko’s breathing. “Thank you for the welcome. I actually flew in a bit early, but I just got out of baggage claim. Just going off the time here it’s like I’ve only been on the plane for a few minutes.”
She swallowed hard, still recovering. “Oh yeah, huh… How is Los Angeles? As dazzling as you imagined?”
“Noisy and really bright and hotter than it is back home. Not quite as crowded-feeling, so I guess that’s an upside.” Her tone was matter-of-fact and carried with it a sense of judgment. Kumiko could almost make out the exact expression on Reina’s face, and the thought made her smile.
“Ah, you sound disappointed.”
“I’m not disappointed. It’s just a little…” There was a pause. “Okay, maybe I am a bit disappointed. In the city, anyway.”
Kumiko broke out into a stifled laugh. “Well that sucks, sixteen hours on a plane just to be let down. Having second thoughts?”
A pregnant pause from the other end followed as Reina collected herself. “Honestly, I can barely keep myself from shaking,” she murmured, as if holding something back. True to her words, Reina’s response carried a hint of a quaver.
“Huh? What do you mean?” Perhaps unconsciously, she tightened her grip on the phone pressed to her ear.
“I mean I’m just so excited I can barely contain myself!” Reina declared, her voice tearing through the speaker. “I’m actually here. I’m like a half hour’s drive away from one of the most prestigious conservatories in the world and they want to help me become a professional musician!” All the traces of her fatigue had vanished as soon as she got the chance to exhale her feelings. Her vibrant smile was easily heard, even if it couldn’t be seen. “Kumiko, it feels like I’m dreaming, but I’m not. It’s as real as real can be and I’m just so happy…!”
“That’s…” The girl on the other end of the line felt a tugging sensation at her core. Her insides were being pulled taut. “Um, that’s amazing. When you put it like that, it sounds incredible.”
“It’s incredible!” A breath, and some jittery laughing. Reina was usually only this excited when she was mad. “I’m still a little overwhelmed. I always believed that I could do it, but it's finally happening and I feel like it's all worth it, you know?"
“Y-Yeah.” She wasn’t lying. Kumiko was happy for her. Reina’s joy was her joy, after all. But… This feeling rising from the pit of her stomach was the furthest thing from happiness. She hated it with every fiber of her being. She sniffled. “I’m, um…I bet it’s great,” Kumiko hummed, twirling a curly lock of hair between her fingers, fervently trying to distract herself from having to feel.
“…Hey, are you crying?” Reina’s voice had lowered again after a lengthy pause. There was no use in trying to hide it. Kumiko’s voice would always betray her, especially to Reina. The tears had begun to push their way out of her eyes about halfway through Reina’s excited rambling. But what was she supposed to say? ‘I hate that you aren’t here,’ ‘I wish you would have stayed,’ and ‘What’s so good about America anyway?’ bubbled up to the front of her mind, but she could never put voice to any of those things. She would never be able to forgive herself if she did. And they made a promise that Kumiko would take care of herself. She couldn’t possibly give her something to worry about right away. So…
“I’m…I’m just so happy for you,” Kumiko lied through her teeth. “I know how important this is to you…” She sniffled. An ugly whimper suddenly crept up on her, threatening to break her thin veneer. “I know how hard you worked, and everything. I’m just…so proud of you, you know?” All the while, she was praying silently, eyes screwed shut.
'Just this once, let me get away with lying. You have to believe that I’m happy!’
“Kumiko…” The sound of sniffling, earnest bids to keep her composure, issued from the speaker. “I… It means so much to me, to hear you say that. I know it’s hard to go through this. And I know, I’ve said it so many times, but…thank you. I wouldn’t be the same person I am without you. Or as good of a musician.”
Something was near a breaking point inside Kumiko, and the more Reina talked the more it splintered. She rubbed her eyes, breathing rhythmically to try and calm herself. “M-Mhm,” she murmured through her tears. "Thank you..."
Reina laughed a little, convinced that they were sharing a tender moment. It still took Kumiko’s breath away to hear it, but it also felt like a nail driving into her chest. “No matter how far away I am, you’ll always be able to talk to me. Any time, about anything. You know that, right?”
“Y-Yeah… Yes. Always.” The girl who had been left behind tried so hard to mean it from the bottom of her heart, but she wasn’t sure if she succeeded or not. She had gotten her wish, but the reality that came with it made her feel sick.
“Good. I'm glad,” the girl who had moved forward said, with a firmness that conveyed complete self-belief. Reina took a deep breath, having successfully cordoned off her tears. “Okay, I need to call a car to drive me soon. And I really need to get something to eat that isn’t airplane portable,” she joked, trying to defuse the emotions of the moment.
“Ha, yeah… Get yourself something nice, if you can. You deserve it.” Kumiko was putting on her bravest face, smoothing herself out like prized porcelain to not show a single wrinkle. It would have to last until they hung up.
“I do, don’t I?” Reina laughed again. She was overflowing with happiness, and Kumiko hated it so much. That searing feeling brought guilt along with it like she’d never felt before. She bit her lip, hard. Was it bleeding? Maybe. She couldn’t tell, and didn’t really care. “Try to go back to bed for a while, okay? We can talk more later.”
“Yeah, you’re right. See you later.”
“Alright! Bye. Love you.”
If what had been happening for the last few minutes was a slow crumbling, that last cruel turn of phrase ripped her heart in two in a single second. She knew that wasn't how she meant it, but that was precious little comfort. Kumiko’s ability to see straight lasted just long enough to look squarely at the hang-up button as she fumbled around it. The convenient fantasy she had believed in had fallen apart in front of her eyes. Reina and her might as well come from different species, with how differently they were reacting. She didn’t have the same regrets, or the same fears, or the same quiet yearning that had kept Kumiko up so many nights. If she did, there was no way she would have been able to say the things she’d said.
Kumiko cursed her own weakness. Was she really this pathetic, to crumble as soon as Reina was out of her sight? Slowly, she sucked in a breath. It came out as more of a scream than a cry, muffled by a stray pillow. The gulf between them was bigger than ever, and Kumiko was drowning.