#my anxiety has been racking up so much that the tiniest things drive me up the wall

[tenthdoctxr]

i feel like i need to constantly remind myself for the sake of my expectations that the people i see and interact with on a regular basis irl literally don’t care how i’m doing most of the time

[shuturquibble]

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.

[molovesvintage]

This is a continuation of how I moved out of my sharehouse and into my very own apartment in Tokyo. Click here for Part One. 

September 2019:

The month of September was spent thus: Every Monday, I’d wake up early, eagerly awaiting a LINE message from my agent. We’d meet up, hit the streets and check out two or three apartments. None of the choices were bad per se, but I guess I was looking for the Goldilocks apartment: I wanted it to be just right. There was a quirky apartment in Shibuya with the largest room but the tiniest bathroom, a chic one in Higashi-Shinjuku that was just outside my budget, and a gorgeous one in Harajuku that was snatched up before we had a chance to apply. Finally, when we met for the fifth time, we headed out to see an apartment in residential Medaimae. Upon stepping inside, I knew it was the one. Maybe it was the charming green wallpaper, the light-filled corner location, or the fact that it was 30 m² and still within my budget. We applied, and I waited, this time not picking up the phone when the guarantor company called. Three anxiety-filled weeks later, I received the news that I had been accepted, and I could move into the apartment in mid-October. 

The beautiful green wallpaper in my new apartment

When it came time to fill out the paperwork, I met my agent at a Jonathan’s restaurant (an “American” diner), for what he said would be an hour-long meeting. I didn’t see how something straightforward like signing a contract would take that long, but I blocked out my schedule. 

When he arrived, he pulled a huge stack of papers out of his backpack. It hit the table with a dull, heavy thud. This would take a while. 

There were multiple contracts, and multiple copies of each contract. The contract with the landlord, with the management company, with the fire insurance company, more contracts than I can remember. Everything was in Japanese, which my agent translated for me. After the contract terms, there were the rules of the apartment: don’t make noise, no pets, no instruments. 

“While living in the apartment, you are not to become a member of an underground organization,” he translated. 

Don’t join the yakuza while living there. Got it. 

October 2019:

When renting an apartment in the United States, one can have certain expectations for what will be included. Usually, the apartment will come with a fridge, oven and stove top, and blinds on the windows. Bonus points if it includes a dishwasher, microwave, or parking space. And if it includes a washing machine and dryer, it is the holy grail of apartment rentals. 

But in Japan, “unfurnished” means exactly that – nothing. No furnishings of any kind. Your apartment is essentially an empty box. And if you are going from a furnished sharehouse to an unfurnished apartment, like I was, you will need to find things to fill your empty box with. 

While this is a daunting and expensive process, modern living thankfully provides us with a lot of convenient ways to get things to put in the box. And one of those conveniences is in the blessed form of IKEA, which will ship any amount of items in a certain radius for ¥3000. So although I was planning on getting a ton of stuff secondhand, I figured that there were a certain number of items that it would be nice to have delivered upon move-in day, and off to IKEA I went. 

Japanese IKEA

Sometimes, life in another country feels like constantly messing up, having to swallow your pride and just go with it. I would have thought, three years into my Japan journey, that this phase would be over, but no; it is a lifelong struggle. 

My trip to IKEA was exemplary of this: I got on the wrong bus, and managed to ride it to the end of the line before I finally figured it out. I was pissed off at myself for doing something so stupid and wasting so much time, but what could I do? I figured out which bus I needed and got on, but the 3 hours I’d set aside for my IKEA trip that day was now reduced by half. Have you seen the size of IKEA? 90 minutes is not enough time, but I had to make it work. 

Under this time crunch, I attempted to sprint through IKEA, but there were just so many options for EVERYTHING. It was while trying to pick out some cups, that I started to feel truly overwhelmed. There were so many choices to make: what color? Which size? How many? It occurred to me, then, that I’ve never made this many decisions before at one time in my adult life. I’d never truly started living some place from scratch, on my own before; and I’d always had another person to help me decide what I wanted. What did I want? What was I doing here? I grabbed the 6 pack of green cups. 

After similar mini-crises over mattresses (foam or spring?) and curtains (length? material? color?) I would eventually make it out alive, only to discover that I’d messed up and bought the wrong type of duvet for the fast approaching winter. I would later return to IKEA and buy another duvet. This one would also be wrong. It was the appropriate one for winter but too small for my duvet cover. I ordered a duvet off of Amazon. It arrived three days later, and was perfect. 

If you don’t want to (or can’t afford to) buy everything new, there are some useful life hacks, brought to you courtesy of the wonderful connectivity of Facebook. In Japan, it can be difficult and expensive to get rid of items like furniture or electronics, so foreigners leaving the country are stuck with the quandary of how to get rid of these things. And, say what you will about Facebook, but literally everyone is on it, and it’s a great way to connect with others. Thus, sales groups such as Sayonara Sales Tokyo and Mottenai Japan were born, both of which I used to source second hand furnishings for my new digs. On these groups, people leaving Japan are able to sell or even give away their stuff. Usually the buyer has to figure out transportation and things like that, but the enterprising gaijin can find great household goods for quite cheap or even free. Of course, it requires a good amount of legwork sifting through posts and if you see something you like, you have to act fast – IKEA as a one stop shop is certainly more convenient. But from these groups, I was able to get my fridge, washing machine, dining room table and chairs, a bookcase, laundry poles and racks, and a myriad of assorted kitchen supplies for a fraction of what they would have cost new.

Move-in day was perhaps the smoothest day of this whole journey. I met my agent to get the keys, and walked into my shiny new apartment. I waited around for the gas man and my IKEA delivery. The gas man told me I was beautiful and the IKEA delivery man complimented my Japanese. On the weekend, I rented a tiny Kei truck for a day to pick up my secondhand appliances and move the rest of my stuff out of the sharehouse. I was nervous about driving the rickety little truck, but it was actually pretty fun! Probably the most fun I had during the entire moving experience. 

At last, I was in the apartment, but was the journey over? Not quite. . .

Happy Travels,

Mo

Tiny Kei truck!

Loaded up with my furniture and appliances

  My Moving Odyssey, Part Two This is a continuation of how I moved out of my sharehouse and into my very own apartment in Tokyo.