Tumgik
#honestly kumirei and asukumi are so precious to me i love them so much
shuturquibble · 8 years
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The Girl with the Raven Hair
Fandom: Hibike! Euphonium Pairings: KumiRei (Kumiko/Reina) Words: 2397 Summary:  In which Kumiko is waiting for her train, and speaks to someone completely unexpected. Links: FF is here! AO3 is here!
It’s a somewhat similar story to “Garden of Words,” but in high school, there was someone who I could only meet when the weather was bad. The railroad I used at the time was weakened by driving rain, and if there were a typhoon in the morning, the train would be late without a doubt. But because of this, I could meet that person who normally took a train an hour earlier than me. So at the time, I liked typhoons. -Sugaru Miaki (Fafoo)
Kumiko held her breath when she saw the woman.
The woman in particular was, without a doubt, beautiful. She had raven hair that danced in the winds and piercing purple eyes that sparkled in the dim orange lights of the subway, yet somehow managed to hold a hardened gleam. She gave off the impression she could take on anything in the world, and succeed with flying colors, especially with the way she held herself, all prim and proper: back straight, purse in front of her, standing at attention. The moment Kumiko first laid her eyes on the woman, she knew from the beginning how different they were.
Kumiko had, as her sister once put it, a beauty that needed to be refined. Her brown hair poofed at the sides, and although her eyes were “caramel-colored” that shined brilliantly in the sun (those were Midori’s words, not hers), Kumiko knew that in the lighting of the subway, the color of her eyes was akin to mud. Her mother once told her she let off a lazy and lousy atmosphere, especially with the way her shoulders slouched, how she swayed her bags at her side, and how her eyes had a dull glow in them. Her mother once said, “You look as if your soul already left you.”
Kumiko remembered saying back, “Can’t lose what you don’t have.”
The howling winds outside came in through the tunnel, and Kumiko tensed up in an effort to keep herself warm. The cold nipped at her, leaving her nose and cheeks a bright red. Kumiko took a quick glance at the woman’s direction; it seemed to be the case for her as well.
Suddenly, the woman began to turn her head, and Kumiko quickly averted her gaze. She admonished herself. Here she was, standing off to the side, staring at an attractive woman she didn't even know the name of. If anything, she was the literal definition of a creep.
Maybe you should actually go and talk to her, a part of her piqued.
And have her turn me down? No thank you, another part chided.
At least you tried.
At least it gives her a chance to hate me.
You could know her name.
Or I could give her a reason to hate me.
There was a sudden boom of thunder, jolting Kumiko back to reality. Someone beside her cursed, and Kumiko took a glance. It was a large man, both in stature and build, whose spiky brown hair was mixed with a tinge of red. He would have had a look of a delinquent if it weren’t for those square glasses of his.
“Damn typhoons,” he muttered under his breath.
Kumiko took a small step in his direction. Then another. And then she said, “Good morning, Goto.”
Goto blinked before tilting his head down to look at her. “Kumiko. Good morning.”
“Your train late again?”
“As usual during this time of year.” Goto sighed and shook her head. “Honestly, they should do something about tracks during the other times of the year. They know how rickety they get during typhoon season—it’s basically a safety hazard!”
Kumiko’s lips quirked into a little smile. “Guessing you don’t like typhoons?”
Goto sighed again. “Well, if you’re going to be late to class for over two months, then yes, I really don’t like typhoons.”
“As diligent as ever,” Kumiko said with a soft chuckle.
Goto gave one of his own. “Some things don’t change after graduating high school.” He looked ahead with a small smile, before his eyes grew wide with a sudden realization and he looked at Kumiko again. “What about you?”
“…What about me?”
“Do you like typhoons?”
“At first, no. But then they grew on me.”
“…Interesting. How so?”
Kumiko fell into a silence. The truth was, typhoons didn't grow on her at all—it was because she was able to see that mysterious black-haired beauty of a woman during the typhoon season did she find the storms tolerable. It was an excuse for her to find herself closer, one way or another, to someone unattainable. Kumiko couldn’t help but scoff at herself—she was already a freshman in college and she still had trouble talking to a cute stranger. If she was being brutally honest with herself, it was pathetic. Truly, truly pathetic.
But Goto didn’t need to know that.
“I think there’s something about the rhythm of the rain,” Kumiko finally said. “Listening to it almost makes me want to fall asleep.”
Goto hummed, eating up the lies Kumiko was handing to him from her palm. “I’ve never thought of it that way,” he said after a long while.
Their conversation was put on a sudden pause as the sound of the train squealing to a stop filled the tunnel. Those who were waiting finally looked up from what they were doing—which was either on their phone or, if they were really old-fashioned, their newspaper—and filed to line up behind the door with blank eyes and dead expressions. Kumiko wondered if she looked the same way whenever she boarded the train. She wouldn’t be surprised if she did.
“My train’s finally here,” Goto said with a relieved smile. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then.”
Kumiko forced herself to wear a smile and nod once. “Until tomorrow.”
She watched as Goto jogged off, falling in line behind the doors before being swallowed by the growing crowd. Kumiko looked over to where the woman was, and saw she had fallen in line as well.
She takes the same train as Goto, Kumiko noted. It made sense—she never saw the both of them when the trains were running on their normal schedule.
She sighed, her breath coming out as a white puff. Another day passed. Another opportunity wasted. Another promise that she would gather her guts to speak to the woman tomorrow…or if that didn't happen, one day.
A gale came through, howling its bitingly-cold laughter at Kumiko. She tensed up, shutting her eyes as she shivered. She cursed under her breath. Kumiko wished she wore another layer, but after looking down at her attire, she wondered how it would have worked—she was already wearing a sweater and two jackets. Another layer more and she would have looked like a walking marshmallow.
The imagery was enough to coax a smile out of her.
“Looks like I’ll be here for another ho—guah!” A piece of paper landed squarely on her face, causing a comically loud SMACK! Kumiko took a moment to gather herself before peeling off the paper off. She examined it, staring at it confusedly as she tried to make sense of the lines and strange symbols on the page.
Sheet music, Kumiko realized. But whose is it—
“Ah, there’s where it went. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about i—” Kumiko’s words and remnants of her soul left her body as she stared at the person in front of her.
It was the woman. The same woman she had been so scared to approach for God knows how long. The same woman who was now approaching her. A part of Kumiko said her blessings to whatever deity was listening. Another part of her was jumping into the six-foot-ditch she dug herself.
The sudden horn of the train departing filled the station. Kumiko was pulled out of her thoughts and watched as the train left. “Ah, your train is leaving,” she said, the words slipping from her lips.
The woman tilted her head to the side, her hair dancing with the movement, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Kumiko felt herself turn to ice as she racked her brain to save herself. “Or, uh, I’m assuming that’s your train. Since I never see you around on the normal schedule.” She mentally gave herself a point for actually pulling it off.
And the woman seemed to buy it, with the way she nodded and looked over her shoulder. If she was upset that she missed her train, she didn’t show it at all; her voice stayed unsettlingly still as she watched the train disappear from view.
“Looks like I have to wait for the next train, then,” she muttered, voicing her thoughts aloud.
“Y-yeah, it’s a bother isn’t it?” Kumiko laughed shakily. She forced herself to stop right there, but the words kept spewing out, much to her chagrin—she could never shut up when she was nervous. “I can’t imagine anyone getting anywhere on time because of these typhoons, you know?”
The woman replied with a hum, moving to stand next to Kumiko. “I don’t really mind them, though.”
Kumiko’s anxieties melted away with that simple answer. “Really?” She asked in a quiet voice.
“Listening to the rain makes me want to fall asleep.” The woman smiled the smallest of smiles as she turned to Kumiko. Kumiko’s heart leapt, and she was taken aback by how beautiful the woman was up close.
She has long eyelashes, Kumiko absently noted.
“A-ah,” Kumiko finally said after a longer-than-necessary pause, “here’s your sheet music.” She held out the slightly crumpled score to the woman.
The woman’s hardened eyes softened with gratitude as she took it. “Thank you. Although, I’m surprised you know what it is,” she said with hidden amusement as she put away the score in her bag.
“I actually play in my spare time,” Kumiko admitted with a small smile. “But nothing as complex as…that.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose up with surprise. “Do you?”
“Euphonium.”
“Interesting.” The woman’s smile grew in the tiniest of ways. “I play trumpet.”
Kumiko let out an amused puff of air. “Really?”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, not at all. It’s just…a little surprising, I guess.”
“How so?”
“I always thought of trumpets as loud and abrasive. You know, kind of like that obnoxious kid that everyone likes.”
“Oh? And how do you know I’m not loud and abrasive when you’ve only just met me?” The woman’s smile turned coy, and although it was attractive, Kumiko didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Well, er, uh, you don’t…seem like the type…?” Kumiko gave a sheepish smile to top of her lame statement.
The woman laughed, the sound that sang in the air with such richness that Kumiko thought it was the street performer performing behind her. “You’re strange.”
“I’m…assuming that’s not a compliment.”
“Oh, but it is,” the woman said with a smile so cute and precious Kumiko felt part of her soul return to her body to just to see it.
“H-how so?”
The woman’s purple eyes twinkled, the look in her eyes a mix between mischief and coyness. “People are attracted to the mystery of strangeness.”
Kumiko could feel her cheeks burn and her eyes widen. Everything slowed and everything quieted. Even the deafening screech of the upcoming train’s whistle was nothing but a drone to Kumiko as she stared at the enigmatic beauty of a woman. Maybe she was foolishly reading too much into a stranger’s words, but with the way the woman was looking at her, a part of Kumiko couldn’t help but entertain the thought that, perhaps, the woman also felt that sense of intrigue towards her.
If this is a dream, I don’t think I ever want to wake up, Kumiko thought.
“Say,” Kumiko found herself saying, “what’s your name?”
The woman’s smile turned into a smirk as she slung her hair over shoulder. Kumiko gulped and cursed her—she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on Kumiko.
“Reina,” she said. Her voice was quiet, yet held all the confidence and conviction in the world.
“Reina,” Kumiko breathed out. The name rolled off her tongue easily, leaving nothing but the desire to say it even more. Reina. Reina. Reina.
Reina was a beautifully mysterious name, fitting for the woman in front of her.
“What’s yours?” was the sudden question that pulled Kumiko out of her thoughts.
“K-Kumiko,” she stammered. Kumiko felt her lips tug down into a frown—her name sounded too chunky, too clumsy, a stark contrast to Reina’s.
But Reina didn’t seem to mind at all—in fact, her smile grew just a tad larger. “Kumiko,” she whispered, the noise of the bustling crowd around them almost overwhelming her. “How fitting—it’s strangely adorable.”
Kumiko sucked in a breath, taking in the rancid smell of the station, but picking up the faintest trace of jasmine underneath it all. She held her breath as well as her words, not trusting herself to say anything.
“The train’s here,” Reina said. Kumiko looked to the side, watching the train screech to a stop. She felt her heart slow to a stop as well; the train’s arrival meant an abrupt end to their conversation.
Soon the noise in the subway erupted, people filing to the doors as they lined up. Out of the corner of her eye, Kumiko saw Reina drifting towards the crowd. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but Kumiko quickly reached out and grasped Reina’s wrist. Reina stopped, and looked at her quizzically.
“Will I see you again tomorrow?” Kumiko blurted out, her volume louder than she had anticipated.
Reina’s smile came back and she slipped out of Kumiko’s grip to place a cold finger on Kumiko’s warm lips.
“If it rains,” was all Reina said before she took her hand back and stepped into the crowd, her sparkling, purple eyes shining pieces of amethyst in the black and white crowd of soulless people.
Kumiko took another breath, the fading scent of jasmine coaxing the rest of her hidden soul to come out to watch Reina shoot one final smile over her shoulder before entering the train.
Kumiko felt herself smile as well.
There really was something strangely attractive about mysteries.
The girl with the raven hair was certainly one of them.
Decided to stick my AN at the end so that it wouldn't interfere with the flow of the story. the quote in the beginning is actually a tweet that i found on tumblr (take a chance to read one of his stories - they can be found translated on vgperson's tumblr. they're very interesting, to say the least). i actually wrote a story inspired by this quote a while back, but i decided to rewrite it for kumirei because it really reminded me of them. it's what really makes kumirei such an attractive couple to me. unlike asukumi (which i do ship), which portrays a loner-meets-loner-to-create-a-whole-and-therefore-understand-each-other kind of love, kumirei gives this you're-a-mystery-and-i-want-to-solve-you-to-understand-you definition to love. to me, it gives kumirei a childishly mature vibe to their love, which makes sense - in the show, the both of them are in the process of growing up and understand the world and people around them. the attraction to mystery is something i always picked up from the both of them whenever they interacted. i feel like they understand each other, yet at the same time, don't. that kind of juxtaposition makes me smile - to find comfort in someone you hardly, truly know, yet at the same time do is a special kind of relationship.
i hope that i managed to communicate that kind of relationship in this story. i might even continue it, if i feel the motivation to. but until then, it'll remain a oneshot.
fun fact: the title is a play on the song The Girl with the Flaxen Hair by Claude Debussy. he's one of my favorite composers. give it a listen and reread the story as you wish - i listened to it nonstop while i was working on this story, aha.
wow, i rambled. it's beginning to become a habit.
but i hope you enjoyed regardless.
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