#or maybe sheet music where the wings are the stave and i put notes on it :)

[dullahandyke]

Also I dont wear silly eyeliner as much anymore bcos of the #slump but tbh I'm a little happy I cant rlly do anything w my eyelids without it Immediately being covered bcos they fold in on themselves.... it Forced me to start going wild with undereye and wings stuff n that's fun :D n then at the end of the day a lot of the makeup on my eyelids has like rubbed together and gathered in a crease and tbh I like it I think it looks unique ... yay :)

[galileosunshine]

Those Who Return to the Sea

Pairing: UmiRiko Words: ~2800 Summary:  In participating in an original song writing competition, Riko decides to write a song expressing her love for Umi. An AU where Umi and Riko are both attending Otonokizaka High. Umi is a third year, while Riko is a first year.

Chapter 2: Realization

Riko is struggling to write her song for the piano competition, and once again, it is Umi who she ends up relying upon.

Read on AO3 Read Chapter 1

Riko sat at in front of the grand piano in the practice room, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers hovered tensed and unmoving above the black and white keys, waiting for inspiration to strike her. Or so she hoped.

Several minutes passed. She felt the rays of the afternoon sun filtering through the classroom windows warming her back. A small bead of sweat ran down her spine, and she felt like shivering despite the warmth. Her hands started to tremble from holding them out so long, waiting for something, anything, to come to her. A melody, a chord, even a single note to start.

With a forceful exhale, Riko finally dropped her hands to her sides. Nothing. She stared dejectedly at the blank piece of sheet music resting on the stand, and its empty staves seemed to glare back at her tauntingly.

For half an hour now, she had been trying to make progress on the song for the competition. For several days, actually. But not a single idea was coming to mind.

Maybe all her musical talent had simply dried up, meager though it was to start with. The thought scared her, but she couldn't help wonder if it was true. Maybe Kuroki was right after all. She didn't deserve to be in the song writing competition. She was sure Kuroki could compose just as well as she could. Many of her classmates could, probably. For the hundredth time Riko wondered why the teacher had chosen her for the competition at all.

And then, for the hundredth time as well, an image bubbled up to the surface of her mind. An image of a certain cobalt-haired girl's smile, and her hand outstretched for her to take. Riko's thoughts always wandered back to that moment, now days past, of Umi rescuing her from the upperclassmen who were jealous of her chance in the competition. And more than that, Riko felt like it was that encounter that gave her the strength to follow through and agree to her teacher's selection.

Riko would then reach the same conclusion. If she simply gave up now, what Umi did for her would be for nothing.

Sonoda-senpai gave me this chance, Riko thought, and it wouldn't be right to just throw in the towel and waste that chance now. Riko gripped the edge of her piano bench, determined to keep trying.

The sound of a door sliding open shook Riko from her thoughts.

"Good afternoon Sakurauchi-san."

"Sensei!" Riko voiced in surprise. Her music teacher stepped into room and closed the door behind her.

"I'm just here to check up on your progress," she said with a smile. Riko slumped, the determination she had just worked up left her like a deflating balloon.

"Well I...haven't made much progress," she fidgeted.

"It’s ok, just show me what you do have."

Riko sighed and admitted. "Ok, the truth...is I haven't started at all."

Riko’s teacher gave her a knowing smile, like she expected that to be the case, then walked over to the piano and rested her hands on the black lacquered wood. "Is anything troubling you?"

Riko shook her head in response. "I don't know, I just can't seem to think of anything."

"Composer's block, huh?"

"I tried all sorts of things," Riko continued. "Taking a walk, looking at different scenery, listening to other music. Sometimes I’ll get an idea, and I’ll run with it for some time. But nothing seems to....stick. Nothing feels right. And then I’ll give up on it after a while."

Her teacher hummed and went silent in thought. Now that she's here, Riko thought she might as well ask what has been on her mind this whole time.

"Sensei, why did you choose me?" Riko tried to speak slowly, afraid that her voice would betray her emotions. "There are so many other pianists in our club that are way more talented than me. I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"Are you saying you want to withdraw?" her teacher probed.

Blue hair, amber eyes, a soft smile, and a hand outstretched flashed through her mind again. Riko shook her head vigorously. "No! It's not that, I just....want to know."

"Maybe I chose you for the competition to change that self-perception you have?"

"Eh?" Riko was surprised, and more than a little confused. None of her feelings right now were helping her self-confidence in the slightest. If anything, they were probably making it worse.

"You're more capable than you think," her teacher continued. "I saw the talent in you when you first auditioned for our music program. The song you composed then showed so much promise! I know you can overcome this."

"I don't know if I can believe that," Riko said, downcast.

"You may not believe it, but at least believe in your teacher who believes in you."

Riko nodded in resignation. She didn't believe it…or at least, it was hard to. But she'd try, in order to live up to her teacher's expectations. And also, to make most of the chance Umi gave her.

"Well, let me see if I can help you a little with that composer's block," her teacher said, and tapped her fingers on the wood of the piano, thinking.

Riko looked up at her expectantly, unsure of what answer she could come up with. Usually she would just wait for her blocks to go away. Riko wasn't sure there was a treatment for an artist's block besides waiting. If there was one though, she really wanted to hear it.

"Hm," her teacher finally voiced. "It's not a lack of motivation, since you don't want to withdraw. It’s just a lack of…inspiration."

Riko nodded slowly.

“But you did say that you got some ideas, they just didn’t stick.” Her teacher’s face brightened, as though she'd stumbled upon an epiphany, and she snapped her fingers. “I got it. You’re just looking for inspiration in the wrong place.”

“Um…?”

"Tell you what, you should go home and think about it some more. Stop trying to force the music, but take the night to relax and do some introspection. Especially think about what inspires you. Then come back to it tomorrow."

Riko sighed inwardly, but tried to give a sympathetic smile. Her teacher was being as enigmatic as always with her replies. But it was true, there was no use sitting by the piano here if she wasn't going to play, and so she agreed.

Riko stood and picked up her bag resting by the side of the piano bench, and gathered her unwritten pages of sheet music. "Ok, I guess I'll be going now."

Before leaving, Riko gave a curt bow. Then she opened the sliding door and left the practice room.

As Riko wandered the halls of Otonokizaka, avoiding the swaths of students going about their own club activities, her mind wandered as well, tossing and turning different ideas for songs in her head. She was so wrapped up in thought that she didn't notice the throng of seniors in front of her as she rounded the corner, and walked straight into one of their backs.

"Mmf!" Riko let out a startled voice at the impact. Long, silky black hair filled her vision, and she reeled back and hurried to apologize. "I'm sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

"Well, well, if it isn't Ms. Piano Prodigy."

Riko felt the temperature of the room drop ten degrees. She recognized the voice instantly. Of all the people to run into, it had to be here, and now. Her eyes dropped to the floor immediately.

"So how goes the song?" Kuroki said, her patronizing voice showing she had no interest whatsoever in how Riko was progressing.

"It's...going alright." Riko tried to stay calm and collected, or at least, give the appearance of being collected. She willed herself to stop fidgeting with her bag's strap.

"Really," Kuroki folded her arms and feigned surprise. "That's weird, ‘cause I didn't hear any playing coming from the practice room."

Riko's heart drummed in her chest. She should've been honest from the start.

One of the other upperclassmen stepped forward beside Kuroki and gave her shoulder a little pat. "Y'know, Sakurauchi-san, Kuroki is writing a song too, in case....well, something happens."

"Yeah, feel free to drop out whenever," another one said, stepping forward as well. They formed a crescent in front of Riko, and she felt herself backing away.

"Hey, don’t pressure her," Kuroki said with her voice dripping in mock concern. "Let's not give up on her just yet. Buuut...a word of advice from your senpai, Sakurauchi.”

Kuroki stepped forward and leaned in close to Riko.

“You shouldn't force yourself to do the impossible, ok?"

Riko didn't know what to say back. All pretense of calm she was trying to put up earlier was gone. Her heart was running wild, and worse, she could feel that ballooning pressure in her head that meant she was about to cry. Why was she such a coward?

Her eyes inadvertently landed on the sign above an exit door, a little ways ahead of her seniors. The sign read "West Courtyard," leading outside. The west wing. That was where the archery dojo was.

If you ever find yourself in trouble again, you can always come find me. Umi's words came rushing through the torrent that was drowning her mind, and Riko clung to it, like an anchor, or a lifesaver thrown out to her.

"Thank you for the advice but I have to go!" Riko rushed out her words and bolted past Kuroki, not waiting for her response.

She slammed through the door and kept running across the courtyard, barely processing where she was going, and just letting her legs carry her. All the while, she cursed her own weakness, cold tears streaking her cheeks.

Riko burst through the archery club door, startling several of the members, and some dropped their bows in surprise.

“Sonoda-senpai!” Riko cried out, eyes frantically searching the room.

“What’s going on?” someone next to her asked nervously.

“Please, can I see Sonoda-senpai?” she said, her panic rising in her throat, as she couldn’t make out Umi’s face in the crowd.

“Why do you need to see her?”

“I…can’t really explain it, but I need to see her, so please…”

“She’s busy, but I can relay a message if you–“

“Please, if she’s around…”

“But…”

“It’s ok,” a voice called from to her side, strong, purposeful, resolute. Riko knew instantly that it was Umi. “I told Sakurauchi-san that she can come see me whenever she liked."

“Sonoda-senpai!” Riko cried, turning immediately to her and grabbing hold of the lapels of Umi’s top. Riko buried her face into Umi’s chest.

Umi flushed a great shade of red and stiffened. But nonetheless, she placed her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders, and gently gave them a light rub. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

Riko whimpered and shook her head, her face still hidden. The other students shuffled awkwardly, until Umi gestured for them to leave, and they left without another word.

Umi looked back at Riko. “Were those upperclassmen threatening you again?”

A moment of silence. Then finally, Riko parted from Umi, though she still didn’t let go of Umi’s clothing.

“Yes, but…it’s not that,” Riko said, her eyes downcast and wet from crying. “They weren’t doing anything that could harm me. I just…hate how weak and cowardly I am. I can’t do anything right. I can’t even come up with anything for this stupid song.”

“Stop, that’s not true.”

Riko found her eyes being drawn upwards into Umi’s. Her words weren’t just an encouragement, but also a command.

Umi gripped Riko’s shoulders tighter. “You’re not weak or cowardly. After that confrontation a week back, you still went through with the choice to enter the competition. That takes courage. And although you’ve been struggling with this song, you haven’t given up. There’s strength in that too. So don’t call yourself weak or cowardly.”

Umi’s voice was deep and unwavering, so full of certainty over what she said that Riko couldn’t help but believe her, at least for that moment. Riko let Umi’s assurance wash over her, a calm settling into every pore of her body.

“Alright,” Riko breathed out. Umi flashed her a smile, satisfied with the answer.

“Why don’t you stay here for a bit? You can watch me practice my archery. It might calm your nerves.”

Riko thought for a moment, then nodded weakly. She had nowhere else to go anyways. Finally separating from Umi, she found a spot off to the side of the wooden room, close to the wall, and sat with her legs beneath her.

Riko watched as Umi silently put on her breastplate and glove, pick up her bow and two arrows, and take her place at the edge that opened up into the shooting range, where several targets lay meters ahead.

However, instead of nocking her arrows, Umi kneeled, and placed her bow and arrows flat in front of her. She then sat as Riko did, her legs underneath her, the traditional sitting posture of martial arts.

“Mind if I tell you a bit about the art of archery, Sakurauchi-san?”

Umi’s sudden speech surprised Riko. After a moment’s pause, Riko responded. “Of course not, go ahead.”

Umi closed her eyes, as though meditating. Her face took on a dreamy expression, as though recounting a nostalgic memory.

“In antiquity, kyudo was practiced for hunting, war, and ceremonial games, but now it is a way for not merely physical training, but moral and spiritual development. A true shot in kyudo consists in the three elements of movement, technique, and attitude coming together in perfect harmony. It isn’t just about the arrow hitting its mark.”

Riko listened in quiet awe as Umi explained. It wasn’t a rehearsed speech, it was completely extemporaneous. But she spoke with such familiarity and understanding, it seemed like she personified the practice of archery itself.

“A good kyudo archer is a person who maintains his or her composure and grace even in times of great stress or conflict, and this is expressed in the archer’s movement and form. And in the moment before the arrow is released, the archer enters a state of munshin, literally, ‘of no mind’. But really, it is a state of perfect mindfulness.”

Umi turned to look Riko in the eyes, and gave her a gleaming smile.

“It is hoped that this emotional stability would carry over to one’s daily life. This is the development of one's spirit.”

Riko wasn’t sure if she understood everything Umi said, but she nodded. It spoke to her, in a deep way. It was an ideal that she felt like she wanted, even if she couldn’t grasp what it meant.

Umi took up her bow and arrows again, and stood. With slow, measured, and controlled movements, she notched her arrow and drew back the string. Umi aimed, and Riko felt the world hold its breath.

The air was still, the falling leaves froze in their descent, and the sunlight became like crystal. Umi closed her eyes, breathing evenly, and Riko thought she was the very embodiment of grace and poise that she had just spoken of.

Umi released the arrow.

It flew with a high pitched whine, and struck dead center of the target before her. Riko let out her breath, and she found herself smiling, filled with a strange sense of excitement. Umi notched her second arrow, pulled back, aimed...

The second struck dead center as well.

“That was amazing, Sonoda-senpai!” she said, not able to contain her excitement.

Umi lowered her arms, then turned to Riko with a smile. “Thank you! I thought it’d be a good shot.”

“It wasn’t just good, it was perfect!”

“There’s always room for improvement,” Umi said. But despite herself, she looked proud, admiring the straightness of the arrows protruding from the target. They weren't angled in the slightest.

“I hope I can do as well on my song,” Riko said, chuckling nervously.

“You will. Just as kyudo is a process of self-discovery, the inspiration for your song will come on its own time. I hope you are able to find it soon, though.”

Riko’s heart pulsed. Why was it that Umi always seemed to say just what she needed to hear? Why does everything Umi do fill her with calm, in just the times when her hammering heart needed soothing?

She was everything Riko was not, and everything Riko felt like she wanted to be. She was powerful and strong, yet subdued, like the waves of the ocean churning with all its latent energy. And at the same time, she was comforting, a place of rest for those lost at sea. Riko wanted to know her senior more, to see Umi in all her radiance, to capture it and study it, in hopes of making it her own. She wanted to express that same radiance, some day. She wanted to…

I want to write a song about it. The thought flickered across her mind, and she sucked in a breath. A song about Umi.

“Sonoda-senpai,” she whispered, as Umi was replacing her bow on its rack. Umi turned her head.

“Yes?”

“I think I just found it.”