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“Hanako-kun,” Nene starts, “am I done cleaning?”
Hanako lowers his encouraging fans, glancing around the spotless bathroom. “Hmm.” He inspects the edges of the sinks and mirrors, where most dust accumulates. “Yeah, you’re done.”
She heaves a sigh of relief. After setting aside her mop and bucket, she rips the latex gloves off her sore hands, flapping them lightly in the air. Hanako leans against the windowsill as she puts everything away, amber eyes lazily watching.
“O-kay!” she says when she’s done. Trotting to her bag, she kneels, rummaging through it and easily finding what she’s looking for. “So, um, there’s something I wanted to give you.” She stands, holding the gift behind her back.
Surprise crosses his face. “There is? What is it?” Eagerly, he floats to her.
Before she can lose her nerve, she swings out the box, holding it out to him. It’s nothing special—a simple deep red with white ribbon wrapped around—but Hanako’s eyes widen at the object. With a carefulness she rarely sees, he reaches out, just barely grasping it with his hands.
“You got me chocolate?” he asks, staring at it like it’ll disappear if he looks away. Blessedly, he’s not teasing her yet, but there’s a faint pink on his face.
“It’s just a gift!” she blurts out, waving her hands. Hanako nearly drops the box, swiftly fishing it back into his hands. “It doesn’t—it doesn’t mean anything, I just thought it’d be nice!”
She knew he was going to take this the wrong way. Getting him chocolate this close to Valentine’s Day was a risky move, bearing her victim to relentless teasing like sharks diving at the scent of blood. It just felt mean not to when this was the perfect opportunity. She can’t imagine Hanako often gets presents, much less sweet chocolate.
Hanako grins despite her fervent proclaims. “How thoughtful, Yashiro,” he drones, holding a hand to his mouth. “Chocolate, just for me? Are you implying something?”
Embarrassment propels her to lunge for his box of chocolates, him just swerving it out of reach. “If you’re gonna be like this, I’m resigning my gift! Give those back!” she yells, taking another attempt to snatch it from him and feeling much like a child when he simply floats out of reach.
“Nuh-uh, you gave it to me!” Hanako holds it over his head, a pout on his face. “It’s mine now. Really, I appreciate the sentiment—”
“Stop it!” She clenches her fists, driven to the edge of a conniption. Scowling, she huffs, crossing her arms and tilting her head away. “Ugh. It’s not just you, I got something for Kou-kun too. But since Valentine’s Day is on the weekend, I thought I’d give it to you now,” she explains.
Irritation melts, giving way to another wave of anxiety. She blinks hard, willing it away. Giving gifts to her friends isn’t abnormal behavior. There shouldn’t be anything nerve-wracking about this.
At least, that’s what she tells herself to not escalate the teetering situation.
Hanako hm’s upon her hasty words, curiously opening the box. Nene side-eyes him, scanning his face for any reaction he gives. After a moment he picks one of the orange flavored truffles, popping it into his mouth. His eyes light up. “This is really good,” he says after swallowing.
“Really?” Nene perks up. “This was my first time making truffles. I kinda had to guess what you’d like.”
It wasn’t an easy task. Simply asking Hanako what he’d like was out of the question. Just getting him to say an inconsequential preference brings a quiet voice and shy blush. At first she thought he was only reluctant to admit honesty about a darker past and deep secrets, but it’s anything. A week ago, she and Kou tried to squirrel his favorite color out of him, taking ten minutes of coaxing. She’s proud to say she knows the answer: Red.
Mentally, she swerves herself back to topic. His liking of plain, homemade donuts was her only pointer for what to give him. After hours of indecision, she finally asked Kou for help. He didn’t outright help with the baking process—she was determined to make them by herself—but he gave good tips, along with discussing flavors Hanako would like.
They landed on chocolate with a milder taste, not too sweet and a softer texture. The box has nine in total, three different flavors: Strawberry, orange, and lemon.
“You made them?” he asks, disbelieving. “I thought it was store bought! They look so professional.” Awed eyes turn to the box, and he picks out another truffle. “Did you make the box too?”
“Oh, I-I did,” she says bashfully, a smile forming on her face. “The truffles were easier compared to the box.”
She has more experience with cooking and baking than crafts. With said experience, she’s surprised she’s never made truffles before. Many sweets, but not them. She’s kind of glad this was her first time. It felt nice making them because she wanted to, and not to impress someone.
Hanako being impressed is just a bonus.
The balloon swelling in her chest at the fact he liked them so much isn’t impressed at the assurance to herself.
Hanako stashes the box away in his pocket, disappearing into whatever void is in there. She’s been meaning to ask how he manages to fit so many things in them. “Thank you for getting me them.” He smiles sincerely. She smiles back. “Onto business…” He shoves a hand into his pocket, the other pointing vaguely at the air. “We have to take care of that apparition from yesterday. It’s already caused more problems in the time we’ve left it running around.”
“Cupid’s Potion?” she inquires.
They didn’t have time to deal with the rumor yesterday. All month has been busy, low-level apparitions forming from lovesick students tossing around rumor after rumor.
Nene is, admittedly, getting tired. Before Hanako, each new rumor would have brought fantastical dreams to her mind, shining hope on her dead love life. After dealing with spirits conjured out of these dreams, she’s wishing student’s would lay off a bit. But, the lovey-dovey rumor’s are tempting. Staying annoyed is impossible when she understands so painfully the reason student’s spread these around like their life depends on it.
“Yep!” Hanako confirms. “If you get your love to drink it, they’ll reveal their true feelings for you,” he recites.
For example, this is a tempting one.
“It doesn’t sound that bad,” she considers, “wouldn’t it be nice to hear someone’s feelings for you? There wouldn’t be any doubt in your relationship.”
“It’s embarrassing,” he scowls half-heartedly. “Besides, it’s doing a lot more than just confessions. There’s been a lot of hurt feelings and messy situations lately.”
Her mouth turns, teeth reflexively chewing on her lip in thought. She imagines what it’d be like if she was spewing all her true feelings to the people she likes. Just the thought brings crawling humiliation up her back. Okay, maybe it is bad. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
Still, perhaps cruelly, she can’t help but think of someone who could stand to express his genuine emotions once and awhile. It’d be a great help in figuring out what his deal is, and… and how he feels about her.
“Yashiro,” Hanako says. Disappointment paints his face, like he heard her thoughts.
“I’m not gonna do anything!” She holds up her hands. Only when Hanako shifts away his stare does she lower them.
Unbidden, her mind trails back to Hanako and his erratic attitude.
Hanako flirts with everyone, backed up by teasing interactions with Kou, how he acted towards Aoi while possessing Nene, etcetera. But she’s not completely oblivious, contrary to popular belief. It’s painfully blatant how much attention he directs to her, every touch, tease, his clinginess and possessive behavior towards her.
Even outright, he’s asked if she would fall in love with him. It was a joke, and she brightly responded that’s a little impossible, I think! Yet the simple question plagued her mind for an entire week.
Heat creeps into her face.
“Yashiro?” The person she’s thinking a bit too much about pops into vision.
She yelps. “Uh—ah, nothing! I was just—sorry, I got distracted.”
He raises a brow, but thankfully doesn’t question her. “Regardless of opinion, we still need to get rid of it. It’s been causing problems in the entire school.”
“Okay,” she concedes. “Wait, right now?” At Hanako’s puzzled expression, she clarifies, “Kou-kun isn’t here. Shouldn’t we wait for him?”
Hanako blinks, holding a finger to his mouth as he scans the room, like he just realized Kou is absent. “That’s strange. The kid should be here by now.”
Nene pulls out her phone. Intending to text Kou, she finds he already left a message that she stupidly missed. “He’s caught up helping his friend Yokoo-san,” she paraphrases. “The issue got out of hand, so he might not be here for a while.”
“Huh. That’s unfortunate.” He doesn’t seem very bothered, but she knows he cares about Kou in his own way. “Guess it’s just you and me,” he smirks.
“W-wait, what?!” Her voice rises sharply. “Aren’t we gonna wait for Kou-kun? It’s safer!”
“It’s just a low-level apparition.” Hanako flicks a hand. “Nothing tricky. The issue about these spirit’s is how they keep popping back up like weeds. But it’ll be much easier with you now, hm?” There he goes using that tone again, face far too close to hers.
She turns away, aware of the blush on her cheeks. If Hanako’s as closed off as a steel wall, Nene’s emotions slip out whether she wants them to or not.
Redirecting Hanako’s attention, she asks, “So, where do we find it?”
The plan is successful, because he leans away from her, expression going thoughtful. “A spot student’s like to confess, maybe. I don’t know any specific places, though. Somewhere more secluded?”
“Like the back of the school?” she offers. She’s read and watched enough romantic tales to gather the typical confession spots.
He snaps his fingers. “We’ll start there. It’ll be easier too, since we're in the area.” Pulling his knife out of his chest—not for the first time, she wonders why he summons it that way—he whisks past her. “Let's try to make this quick.”
Nene melts against the auditorium chair, a frustrated sound leaving her mouth as she buries her face into the cloth. “Where is it?!” She snaps her head back up, digging her hands into the chair.
Hanako pats her back. “I’m sure we’ll find it.”
She puffs out a breath, de-tangling a few choice locks of hair. “We’ve looked everywhere,” she moans.
“You said that the last three times,” Hanako reminds less-than-kindly. “There’s always more to check! We have an entire school here.”
Using the chair as support, she pushes herself back to look at Hanako. “Is it really gonna show up? If it’s attracted to romance, then it could be anywhere.”
Quite a few times they’ve passed Valentine’s decorations and students staying after school for nervous gifts and, on rare occasions, confessions—Nene and Hanako quickly left those scenarios. Seeing the air full of romance was a brightener for the day, but soured every second Cupid’s Potion refused to show.
Hanako shrugs, twirling his knife. “That’s why I was hoping to find a spot that’d attract it more.”
“Well, we haven’t found it,” she mutters. “…sorry, that was mean. This is just frustrating. I don’t wanna miss it today and leave it to cause more problems.”
He rests a hand in her hair, gently smiling. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not the end of the world if we miss it, we’ll just get it tomorrow, alright?”
“Mm… alright.” The seed of confidence sprouts, gnawing away the bitter feeling in her chest. “Actually, yeah! You’re right, I don’t know why I got so upset about it. This’ll be a piece of cake!” She shakes her fists.
“Atta girl!” He pumps a fist in return.
She hums, pivoting around. “Next stop isss”—Her eyes land on the auditorium stage, intimidating from its lack of people—“there!” Satisfied, she moves to the middle walkway, heading down the thinly carpeted stairs.
“The stage?” He floats beside her, free hand raptor posing.
“Um, yeah!” Her gut twists, knotting together. Does he think the idea is stupid? “Aoi was going to be confessed there once, so I thought we could try it.”
“Do you just wanna get on it?”
“No!” she exclaims. He gives her unblinking eyes. “Well—well, it’d be cool! I’ve never been on stage before,” she admits. “But I really think we should check there.”
He grins. “Whatever you say.”
Strolling—floating, for one of them—through the auditorium is strange. Each breath, every step feels as loud as a boom in the empty room. Fluorescent lights giving an unnatural shine only add to the unnerving feeling. She cranes her head to squint at them, dizziness rising upon the realization at just how far up they are. The room already felt huge crowded with people, a performance about to play, but now it’s gone from huge to eerie.
Her legs halt in front of the looming wooden stage. Awaiting lights beam on it for a show that’s not going to start.
“Kinda like a liminal space,” Hanako observes.
She gasps. “That’s it! I couldn’t remember the word.” Following the stage, she heads for a small set of stairs. “It reminds me of a train station at night.”
Being on stage is a completely different experience. She clutches the curtain pulled to the side of the stage, looking around the odd space. Nothing’s out of place, but the thrill outweighs her disappointment. Hanako was partially right about her reasoning for going here; standing on stage was too enticing.
Wood clicks under her shoes as she bounds to the center of the stage, looking around in awe. Rows and rows of empty seats greet her, lacking the chatter she’s come to expect from the auditorium.
A silly, bubbling part of her feels like she’s supposed to break out into song, start some dramatic acting for an audience that isn’t here.
“It’s not here.” Hanako looks at the stage lights, chandelier glimmering. “You seem happy, though.”
She flushes. “It’s exciting! Most people don’t get to stand here, y’know.”
“It’s just a stage.”
She rolls her eyes. He’s trying to rile her up. The fact it’s working is unimportant. “Hasn’t there ever been a place you’ve been curious to go? Just because you never have? I’m not in drama club, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me!”
“Eh.” He waves a hand. “I can already go anywhere in the school, cause I’m a ghost. One point for me, zero for you.” His lips pull into an irritating grin.
“Wh—” she sputters. “W-well, I get to experience this, and you don’t! Two points for me.”
“Huh?! Hey, that’s not how it works!” Hanako shakes her shoulders, faux distressed. “One point at a time!”
“You didn’t tell me the rules, so I’m making my own!” she tells him firmly, rooting her feet into the ground to prevent him from shaking her too hard. “Two points.”
Stubbornly, he rebuttals, “I get to float! That’s worth like, a bajillion points.”
“That’s cheating.”
He squawks. “How is that cheating?!”
Words build in her throat, laying on her tongue and ready to be used. She’s not sure what she was going to retort with, but before anything can escape, Hanako’s eyes widen, “Yashiro—” and he shoves her out of the way, wind bursting past her as something whizzes by, just missing her by a fraction.
“H-huh?” she inhales, clutching Hanako tightly, his arm wrapped protectively around her. The thing that nearly hit her is stabbed into the ground, fear slamming into her at the realization it’s a syringe.
Hanako points his knife to the ceiling, eyes trained on something. “We found you, so stop hiding!” he yells.
A piercing giggle rings through the air, and with a click the stage lights are a vivid, eye-searing pink. Nene winces, averting her eyes from the color washed over them.
“Cut the games,” Hanako hisses, lip curling. “You’ve caused nothing but trouble.”
The thing appears. Nene takes a moment to process what’s just across the stage, brain scrambling to piece together what it is. It’s an odd amalgamation of paper mâché and Valentine's cards, creating a form vaguely resembling something human. A mask covers its face, heart-shaped with pink eyes drilling into her. Alarmingly, another syringe is held in one hand, some pink substance sloshing in it.
Cupid laughs again. “What an interesting pair! Neither willing to say what they want… I wonder which one should.”
In their talking, Cupid’s drawn closer. Hanako, decidedly uninterested in what they’re spewing about, unhands Nene and swipes at Cupid with his knife.
The paper mâché and cards building Cupid parts itself with the motion of his knife, leaving them untouched. Hanako blinks, agitation creasing his brows as he tries yet again to get a hit on them. Cupid simply swerves out of the way, high-pitched giggling filling the air the longer Hanako feebly tries to get rid of them.
“Didn’t you say this is a low-level apparition?!” Nene calls out as Cupid flits around Hanako, syringe blocked by Hanako’s knife.
“They’re supposed to be!” Hanako yells back. “They—” he cuts off, narrowly blocking another hit, “may have gotten stronger with a school full of prey, but they’d go down with one hit, if I could just get them—” He snatches Cupid’s arm, then flinches, ripping his hand away like it was burned. “Wha…?”
“Did you not like that?” Cupid grins, holding a hand to their mouth. “I am a manifestation of every student’s burning love! Touching me only serves to show you all the words that haven’t been said. Far too many, I think! Including your affections for that girl—”
“Shut up.”
Cupid’s smile impossibly grows wider. “No, I don’t think you will.”
Nene’s moving before Cupid even rears back their syringe. “Hanako-kun!” she shouts, throwing herself in front of him.
There’s a sharp prick in her arm. Pain doesn’t have time to come, because the world fades to black.
Hanako’s not having a good day.
Valentine’s spirits already put him in a bitter mood, thoroughly done dealing with them. He thought it’d be easier this time, fun maybe, now that Nene is with him. And it was.
Until the course of trial and error led him to a tangle of limbs on the floor. Nene, in quick thinking, had pushed him out of the way just before the needlepoint could hit him. Unthinkingly, she fell with him, and now he’s feebly attempting to free himself.
“Oops!” Cupid’s aggravating voice pokes his ears, a snicker accompanying it. “Wrong one! I guess this is still interesting.”
Hanako stills. Wrong one? Hurriedly, he gets Nene off him.
“It’s been fun!” Cupid smiles brightly. “I’ll see you two around, then!” They blow a kiss.
“Hey, wait!” Hanako shoves himself up, lunging at Cupid and just missing as they disappear. He crashes onto the stage, yelping as pain shoots through his joints. Wasting no time other than to give a miserable groan, he sits, frantically scanning the room.
Cupid’s gone.
“Dammit,” he mutters.
Nene’s worries about not getting Cupid weren’t ones that bothered Hanako. As always, her emotions were more intuitive than his.
His eyes widen. Snapping to Nene, he finds the girl lying prone on the floor. “Yashiro?” Quickly, he shuffles to her, pressing his head against her chest. He calms at the sound of her heartbeat. He’s not sure why a fall would… kill… her, but he’s also not sure why she hasn’t gotten up yet.
Deep red catches his eye. A dot of blood wells on her arm, caused by none other than a syringe.
Wrong one.
All the blood drains from his face. “Yashiro! Wake up!” he yells, shaking her shoulders.
He bites his lip when she doesn’t. Okay. Okay. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a bandaid and wipe. Gently, he wipes the excess blood away, placing the fish-patterned bandaid on after.
Nene grunts. Hope rises in his chest. “Yashiro?”
Blearily, her eyes open. “…Hanako-kun? Ow,” she winces. She reorients herself, sitting up. “What happened?”
“Cupid got away.” He needs to get them later, he thinks in disdain. “But you got injected with the potion, do you… feel okay?” His hands hover around her, uncertain if he should hold her or not.
There’s always a twist, or trick, or something to rumor’s that wasn’t mentioned. It’s never just the words being passed around, and he doesn’t like the implications of a love potion.
With a shudder, he remembers how it felt touching Cupid. A burst of head-pounding thoughts and feelings had swirled in his head, invading the calm space he tries to keep. None of them were his own—it was like seeing through the perspective of a dozen different people at once. Cupid’s existence must be a torturous one if they’re feeling that.
Nene gives her bandaid a distasteful yet fond look, tracing a hand over it. “Um, I think so? Kinda dizzy?” She frowns.
“Dizzy?”
Absently, she turns to Hanako. “Yeah, but—”
Their eyes meet. A startled breath leaves Nene’s mouth, her muscles abruptly stiffening as she sits still as a statue. Her eyes are wide as dinner plates, ruby looking like a cerise pink in the light. Hanako feels just as frozen as she looks, stuck in the displaced intensity of them. Before he can say something, Nene reaches a hand to his gakuran, gripping it tight.
“Wha—mmf?!” She drags him down, lips crashing into his. Any coherent thought short circuits, leaving his brain a jumbled mess as Nene—Nene kisses him, Nene’s kissing him.
Her lips press against his like it’s the end of the world, hand snaking up his shirt and resting in his hair to pull him closer. It clicks, and he weakly pushes her away, arms shaking. “W-wait—” She pulls him back into the kiss, cutting him off yet again.
He finally gets control of his limbs, shoving Nene off him and scrambling back. “Yashiro—” he gasps for air, face burning hotter than seared iron as he struggles to wrangle the words out of his mouth. With a trembling hand, he rights his hat, jostled by her sudden move.
She sways, put off by his rejection. “Aw, are you too shy?” She smiles coyly, crawling to him. It wasn’t the lighting; her eyes really have shifted to a pink hue, physical evidence of the potion running its course. Her hand rests on his sealed cheek. “What’s with this, huh? You’re usually so confident.”
He wrenches her hand away, ignoring the heat on his face. “Yashiro, this isn’t—this is the love potion,” fruitlessly he explains, clambering to stand. He can barely think when she keeps doing this.
Unwilling to let go of him, she rises with him, leaning into his personal space. “But I’ve always wanted to kiss you! You look so cute when your face turns all red.”
“A-ah…”
“See, just like that,” she smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind his hair.
Is this how she feels every time he flirts with her, he wonders hysterically, nearly dropping his knife from his shaking hands. No—this is worse, way worse.
Finally being granted movement, he nudges her away from him, trying to back away. She only ends up clinging to his arm instead, pressing into his side. He de-summons his knife before he forgets, nervous by her proximity. “Hanako-kun,” she whines, big doe eyes peering at him. “Why are you pushing me away? Am I not pretty enough for you? I know you actually like my legs—”
He slaps a hand over her mouth, oppressive, volcanic heat layering over his body exploding. “Okay, enough of that!” His voice rises, betraying the composure he’s desperately latching onto.
He needs help. God, where’s the kid when Hanako wants him?
“We’re going back to the bathroom,” he decides, taking her with him to the edge of the stage and hopping down. Nene doesn’t miss a beat, unfortunately keeping her glued state to him.
“Oh?” Nene fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve. “The bathroom? I guess if you want us to be alone—”
He covers her mouth with both hands this time. God, his face must be so red. “That’s not—” he cuts off, ripping his hands away. “Did you just lick my hand?” She did. He can’t believe this.
“It’s rude to interrupt a lady!” Her cheeks puff out, resembling a hamster. It’s the most Nene expression she’s made since waking up. Soft fingers cradle his cheek, turning his face to her as half-lidded eyes bore into his. “Unless you want to shut me up with your lips.”
He chokes on his spit, a hoarse sound leaving his mouth in lieu of words. He’s going to die. She keeps catching him off guard and he can’t stabilize. Sorry, the seventh mystery is gone! Cause of death: Melting.
Their faces are too close. Jerkily, he swerves away, tipping his hat down to shield his burning face. Taking her hand, he adamantly drags them up the stairs.
“Hey—Hanako-kun!” Nene protests, clutching his arm yet again as she moves in to stand by his side. “You’re being so cold,” she whines, puppy-eyes invading his peripheral vision. “Come on, just another kiss? It doesn’t have to be on the lips!”
Without input, the memory of Nene pulling him close on a rooftop fills his mind. He shoves it down. This is not the time. Pointedly, he continues to walk, trying to pick up speed.
Undeterred, Nene’s hands lay on his shoulders, head craning around the nook of his neck to peek up at him. “Hanako-kun, stop ignoring me!” Her arms slither around him, one laying loosely on his chest as the other turns his head to face her. “You say things like this to me all the time,” she pouts. “Can’t take a taste of your own medicine?”
Apparently not. “Is this payback?” His voice remains his enemy by coming out hoarse. Maybe he deserves this for all the teasing about daikon legs, every flirty touch, and hey, why don’t you fall in love with me?
Hanako pushes open the auditorium doors, feeling the knot of tension in his chest loosen a margin. No longer being in a secluded room feels better.
“It’s not payback!” Nene huffs. “But you’d deserve it, with how much you tease me,” she voices his own thoughts, eyes rolling. “I’m just telling you how I feel. What,”—She digs her nails into his head—“I,”—carding them through as she leans in—“want.”
Hanako reacts quicker this time. For a heart-pounding moment, he’s stuck, paralyzed in the piercing gaze of her eyes. Warm breath caresses his skin, their noses nearly touching.
He reacts quicker, but he doesn’t account for her limbs wrapped around him. In his haste to shove her away before either of them do something stupid, his hands push with too much force, sending him careening forward. Nene yelps, toppling to the ground with him. The floor is unforgiving. It knocks into his head, sharp pain ricocheting through.
Hanako wheezes. His throat and vocal chords strangle each other for a moment, breaths coming out in sharp gasps. Why, he thinks, wincing as he touches his head. The pain recedes just as quickly as it came. Bonuses for being dead.
“Ow, ow, ow…”
Hanako pulls himself off Nene, finding her holding her head with clenched teeth. Guilt replaces his fluster. “Yashiro, I—”
She sits up, hair falling over her face in a wave of cream tides. Rubbing her head, she pulls her hair to the side, revealing glaring eyes. “That was mean, Hanako-kun.”
Hanako stutters out an incredulous noise. The apology on his lips burns to ash. “It was your fault we fell!” he objects.
“You keep being weird!” Nene yells. Her uniform creases under her fingers digging into it. “Teasing me, then backing out when I advance! It’s mean! You don’t understand how any of this works, do you?”
He tries to argue, but nothing solid forms. She’s right. He has no idea. How is he supposed to when he’s been dead for decades? She could cut him some slack. Frustration grasps its poking claw on his gut. “Yashiro, you’re only doing any of this because of the love potion!”
“I’m doing it because I want to! Don’t you want this too?” Her face is suddenly in his space. He doesn’t think she’s going to try anything, but he reflexively blushes.
Hanako not-so-subtly leans away, frowning in hesitation and exasperation. “No—no kissing, okay?” he says, instead of answering her question.
Nene’s eyes droop, brows downturned. “Really?” A sly smile forms. “Not even on the cheek? Or”—She brushes a hand to his forehead—“a kiss to make it better?”
He squeaks, and immediately slaps his hands over his mouth. Horrified embarrassment fills his lungs, marking his face. This is—this is humiliating. He’s leader of the Seven Mysteries, yet some flirting is unravelling him at the seams.
In contrast, Nene looks delighted. “That was so cute!” she squeals.
“It was not cute,” he protests hotly.
He half-expects the kiss to his forehead, so when Nene plants one there, he doesn’t immediately spiral. Regrettably, it does nothing to tamp down the feelings surely showing on his face. “It was!” Nene’s smile is sunny this time. “You’re so cute. And your eyes are really pretty, y’know. I could stare at them all day.”
No one’s ever called his eyes pretty before.
Trying to box neatly each sparked emotion Nene’s words give—along with boxing them he planned to burn them into ash, then toss said ash into the ocean—isn’t working, so it’s time for Plan B: Ignore them.
Feigning an air of equanimity, he stands, trying to continue the walk back that’s taking too long.
Expectedly, Nene plasters herself to him. “Are you too embarrassed? You’re always like this. You can’t take a compliment to save your life… or teasing,” she sighs, like this is a devastating mistake on his part. “I should have complimented you more. There’s so many things I think about you. Remember our conversation earlier? I was thinking about you. You keep distracting me with your voice. I love listening to it. I love it even more when you’re like this, I can hear all the emotion you try to hide.”
He thinks it’s mortifying, but to each their own.
Nene’s not done. Hanako wonders if he’s ever going to stop blushing at the rate she’s going. “You’re on my mind so much, I have to write poems to get it out.”
Wait, what?
He can’t stop himself from incredulously asking, “Poems?”
No way. No way. He’s well aware of Nene’s writings about her crushes, but poems about him? His head spins. Keeping himself from wondering what she’s written is like holding down a massive, barking dog who wants more than anything to chase that stupid squirrel.
“There’s so much to write about you!” Nene carries on. “You make my heart pound,” she whispers, a secret for him and her. “Too many things you make me feel, so many I’ve never said out loud…”
She’s going to say too much. She already has, and he knows how hard the regret will hit later. “You don’t need to say anything.”
“But I do! It’s driving me crazy keeping everything inside. You know, I actually like when you tease me. It’s exhilarating. I never had the confidence to tease back, but I’ve always wanted to. Catching you off guard, seeing you blush, I love everything about it… everything about you.” Her hand ghosts over his cheek, tangling into his hair.
His breath hitches, feet nearly halting completely. Stop, stop, don’t think about it. Shakily, he keeps going.
Uncaring of his plight, words keep leaving her mouth. “And I complain about cleaning, but I get to see you, so I don’t actually mind. I miss you so much on the weekends, I wish I could just be near you all the time. Don’t you wish that too?”
He does, so badly it hurts, and that’s entirely his issue. It’s an unfillable void in his chest, longing for someone he can’t have. Someone who’s relentlessly tearing into those vulnerable walls and aiming straight for the heart.
Giving mercy, the universe makes this the moment he finds himself in front of a familiar bathroom.
“Oh, thank God.” Hanako pulls himself and Nene inside, welcoming the chemical air.
The bathroom provides brief alleviation for his predicament. It’s quickly crushed when he realizes he doesn’t have a plan. Nene won’t let go of him, so he can’t send her home—even if he somehow managed to, she might break into school just to get back. And dealing with Cupid is dangerous when Nene’s in this state.
He could block off Nene, but leaving her alone feels cruel, especially when he doesn’t know how long it’d take to get Cupid. Back to square one.
“What’s that face for?” Nene inquires, hanging over his side.
“Just… thinking.”
She frowns. “It doesn’t seem about something very fun. Hey, I know!” Her forehead touches his. “Why don’t you think about me instead?”
He doesn’t have the heart to tell her she’s the problem. “Yashiro—”
“Hey, Hanako, are you…”
Hanako stops. Hope igniting in him, he swerves at the familiar voice, finding Kou standing in the doorway. “Kid!” he yells, utter relief and joy painting his voice.
“Hanako?” Kou returns, smiling in confusion.
Hanako picks up Nene, handing her off to Kou. “Hold her,” he orders, floating back.
“Wh—Hanako-kun!” Nene squirms in Kou’s grip, gritting her teeth. “Lemme go, lemme go— Hanako-kun, come back!” she whines.
“Huh? Senpai?” Kou gives the writhing girl in his arms a worried look. “What happened to her? I’ve been trying to find you guys.”
Hanako fans his face, brushing a hand through his hair. “A spirit inflicted her with a potion, and now she’s been like this.” He smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt, stretching his arms. Having full mobility was a much-missed thing.
Kou adjusts his grip, face softening. “Hey, Senpai, shh. You're safe.”
Nene struggles against Kou’s hold, shooting daggers at Hanako. “Hanako-kunnn, stop ignoring me! Why do you keep doing this?!”
Kou blinks. His eyes narrow. “What kind of potion was it?”
“Um,” Hanako says eloquently.
“Hanako.”
He casts his eyes to the ground. “It’s, uh… kind of, maybe…” his voice grows quieter with each word, hands twiddling, “a… love… potion.”
“What?!” Kou exclaims. “You didn’t do this on purpose, did you?”
“No!” Hanako near-shrieks. He strangles to control his volume. “Why would I do this on purpose?!”
Kou clutches the still-squirming Nene. “You’re kinda skeevy.”
“This is literally the last thing I wanted—”
Nene punches Kou square in the jaw. He chokes, hands flying to the hurt spot and subsequently dropping Nene. The girl lands on her hands, lunging at Hanako like a cat hunting its prey. Hanako’s just bracing himself when suddenly Nene jerks back.
Kou stands with a frazzled expression, one hand tightly gripping the back of Nene’s uniform while the other holds his jaw.
Jesus.
“Hey!” Nene seethes at Kou, baring her teeth. “Let me go, let me go, let me go!” She’s struggling in earnest now, nearly hitting Kou again. Her legs flail, sending a sharp kick to Kou’s ankle.
“Ow,” Kou winces, impressively maneuvering out of Nene’s attempted hits while keeping hold of her. “Hanako, a little help here?!”
Hanako startles. Right, he needs to… despairingly, he scans the room. He has nothing useful, this is a bathroom, what in the world can he—
Wait. Swiftly, he floats to the biggest stall, swinging open it’s door and fervently gesturing inside it. “Stall—put her in the—”
Kou, bless him, understands Hanako’s frantic babbling. He shoves Nene to the stall with effort, the girl bent on making this as difficult as possible. With a final push, he gets her inside, Hanako slamming the door shut. He holds the lock shut with one hand and pulls out tape with the other, sticking a few pieces of it on the lock.
“Duct tape,” Kou remarks.
“Supernatural duct tape,” Hanako corrects, moving on to lining the rest of the stall with it. “It’s better than normal duct tape.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says flatly.
The door bangs, lock trying to shimmy against the tape, but it doesn’t give. Hanako stares at Kou.
Kou visibly relents. “Okay, fine, it’s better! But we still need to figure out what to do with Senpai,” he reminds.
“I can hear you guys,” Nene spits out from inside the stall. “Hanako-kun…”
“And I can’t hear you, strange,” Hanako says.
“Hanako-kun!”
He turns away from the stall. “To reverse this, we need to get rid of the apparition that caused it. Kid, stay with Yashiro while I deal with Cupid.” He’s just about to summon his knife when Kou stops him with a hand around his wrist.
Kou’s brows furrow, concern in his eyes. “What? No. Hanako, you shouldn’t be fighting a spirit right now.”
Hanako looks back, mildly irritated. “And why is that?”
“You’re shaking,” Kou points out. Hanako looks at his hand, finding it trembling. Oh. “And you’re really sweaty.”
“Thanks,” he deadpans.
“So, I’ll fight Cupid instead!” Kou suggests brightly. “They won’t stand a chance against me!”
Hanako exhales, the weight in his chest laying heavy. It’s a nice offer, but… “Kid, you don’t have a—” Hm. “Actually, give me your staff for a sec.”
Kou does as asked, albeit in a bewildered and wary manner. Hanako picks at the edge of its seal, ripping it off. “This is a one-time thing,” he says, handing it back to Kou. “Give it back to me when you’re done so I can reseal it.”
Kou gasps. Giving his staff a reverent stare, he beams at Hanako. “I won’t let you down!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Hanako smiles lightly. “Go get ‘em, kid.”
Kou salutes, dashing out of the bathroom. The moment Hanako can’t hear his footsteps anymore, he falls onto the ground with a thump.
It has been a day.
Deeply, he inhales, then exhales. He doesn’t need to breathe, but it’s calming to regulate it anyway. Repeating the process a few times, he presses his hands onto his cheeks, willing the burn to fade.
“Hanako-kunnn…”
Hanako jolts. He doesn’t dare look at the stall, cupping his hands over his ears.
“Hanako-kun. I know you can hear me!”
He tilts his head away, staggering to his feet. Like a child throwing a tantrum, he keeps his ears firmly covered, pointedly giving Nene no attention. Walking to the other side of the room, he stops at his reflection.
Wow, he looks awful.
A light sheen of sweat lays over his red-dusted face, messier than usual hair framing it. Exhaustion mars his amber eyes, giving himself a tired look.
“When are you going to stop ignoring this?”
His mouth opens before he can stop it. “I’m not ignoring anything.”
“Oh, really?” He can hear her unimpressed expression. “Then what are you doing right now?”
Hanako pulls at the skin under his eyes, squishing his face around. He opens his mouth, examining his canines. One of the nicer things about an eternal body is he no longer gets cavities. “Looking at my reflection.”
“Funny.”
Deciding it to be a lost cause, he splashes cold water on his face, minimally refreshing him. “I know, I’m a comedian.”
“You are funny. But not when you’re avoiding me! You’re always clinging to me, why are you stopping now? Was all that confidence faked? Did none of the flirting mean anything?”
He turns at the desperation threading through her voice. Pink eyes lock onto him from the small space between the stall and floor.
“That’s not—” Hopelessly, he grasps for words that won’t come.
“Then what is it?” Her eyes are sharp, gleaming with accusations he can’t answer. “I know you like me! I like you too—”
“Don’t,” he barely gets out, voice cracking. He can’t do this. “Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true! I see how you look at me, Hanako-kun.” She says his name in a way he’s never heard, low and teasing with passion just underneath.
“I—that doesn’t—” he stammers. It’s not like he’s been trying to hide his affections for her, but she never seemed to take it seriously. He shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter! This isn’t…” you. Isn’t right.
“Of course it matters. You wouldn’t say mine don’t matter.”
Mine. Her feelings, the kind he’s known she’s felt for him since the day they bloomed. It was when they were dealing with the confession tree. Seeing how upset she got at the revelation it was a fake confession drove him to stop her at the gate, opening up for the first time with an earnest apology. He held her until she stopped crying.
And it made him realize a little detail; Nene was crushing on him.
It was small. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t supposed to matter.
He wasn’t supposed to fall too.
There wasn’t a day Hanako’s feelings bloomed. He can’t pick out the moment things changed. It’s just a fact now that he likes her, clear as the sky. And now matter how hard he tries, the tree grown in him with blossomed flowers won’t die.
Shoulders slumping, he stares at the tiled floor. It makes no sound as he glides across it, bringing him to the stall hosting the root of his conflict. He presses the palm of his hand to it, slowly curling into a fist. Slowly, he slides down the door, pulling up his knees.
A hand slithers from under the door, taking his. Hanako can’t bring himself to dismiss the gesture. With a heavy heart, he holds back.
It’s not long until the hand in his falls limp.
Nene doesn’t feel much different when she wakes up.
For a moment, when the blurry darkness hasn’t yet faded, she’s expecting to find herself in her room, waking up on a school day to her blaring alarm. The grogginess is familiar. Her head screaming at her in dull ache isn’t.
Her eyes crack open.
Two pairs stare back. Hanako and Kou lean over her, examining her with critical eyes.
“Why am I on the floor?” Nene asks, peeved.
A grin breaks out on Kou’s face, relief shining on Hanako’s. “Senpai! You’re back!”
“Um?” Nene pulls herself up, holding a hand to her head. At least the bathroom floor is clean as can be, but it wasn’t comfortable. Why was she there, anyway? “Did something…”
It hits her, unforgiving as a truck careening down the unstable cliff of oh God.
Her face bursts into flames. She—she kissed— she told him all those things, she told him about the poems, she kissed him.
Horror clamping her throat, she turns to Hanako, desperate to ease the shame enveloping her in its suffocating grip. “Hanako-kun, I—”
His back greets her. “You two should head home,” he says evenly. “It’s getting late.”
The words die. Hopelessly, she stares at him, wishing more than anything he’d be willing to talk, that she could put into words how sorry she is, that she didn’t mean any of it. But that’s not entirely true. The feelings didn’t come from nowhere, as exaggerated as they were. It only serves to worsen her guilt.
“Senpai.” Kou’s voice brings her back to reality. His hand lays reassuringly on her shoulder. “Come on, let's go.”
She lets him tug her out of the bathroom, giving Hanako one last sidelong glance. He doesn’t return it.
Nene manages to keep in the tears until she and Kou are stepping into fresh air.
Cold air stings her face, bitter and unrelenting. Inhaling it feels like eating glass, its burning pain rising to her eyes. The world sways in blinding white, blurring until it's an indistinguishable mess. Her next inhale chokes in her throat, a sob coming out instead.
Kou makes an alarmed noise beside her, grabbing one of her arms. “Huh? Senpai, what’s wrong—”
“Hanako-kun must hate me!” she wails. “I-I said all those things, I made him so uncomfortable, I told him about the poems, why did I say that?!”
“Woah. Hey, it’s okay.” Kou guides her to his arms, Nene burying her face into his shirt. “Hanako could never hate you, Senpai. It didn’t seem that bad, anyway.”
Her breath hitches, back shaking from her cries. “It was awful! I did so many terrible things!” she bawls. “The first thing I did was… was…” Her hands tremble, clutching Kou’s shirt. “Kou-kun, I kissed him.”
Silence.
“On the—?”
“On the lips!” she cries.
“Ah.”
“See?!” She pulls herself away from Kou, staring at the concrete in anguish. “I can’t talk to him again! How am I supposed to ever show my face after that?! I should—I should change my name and move to another country!” She grips her hair, tears filling her words.
“Senpai, no!” Kou grabs her again. “I think he just needs some time. You know how he is.”
Emotionally incompetent. Nene’s apparently just as bad. She sniffs, wiping away her tears with shaking hands. “You don’t think he’s mad?”
Kou smiles comfortingly. “He seemed more flustered than mad. Really, it’ll be okay, Senpai. You guys just need to talk about it.”
The simple assertion feels impossible. “I don’t know what to say,” she mumbles.
“Then you can figure it out over the weekend, yeah? That’s probably enough time for him too.” Kou takes her hand, leading her down the steps. “But no matter what, you should talk about it,” he stresses.
Tentatively, she nods, following him out the gates. They part ways with one last hug, Kou waving at her as he leaves. She lets her hand fall after a second, turning on her own path.
Ugh. Why did this happen? Does the universe think her life is a joke?! It must be laughing at her right now, playing her like a puppet for its entertainment. She fiddles with her uniform bow, folding the fabric over her hands. It’s still so hard to process. Under the potion, everything she felt for Hanako was magnified by a hundred. Words spilled out without remorse, her passion running rampant.
Feelings and knowledge she didn’t even know were there were trudged up, forcefully placed in the forefront of her mind.
I know you like me.
Clammy hands dig into her bow. Shame washes over her, wilting her posture. It’s self-absorbed of her to be thinking of that right now, but… he didn’t deny it. It’s hard to say there’s no chance Hanako likes her. In fact, she’d be willing to bet he does. Reciprocation was a fleeting concept, water through her hands and difficult to grasp. Now it’s face to face with her.
She just hopes she didn’t ruin it all.
Hanako’s avoiding her.
Following Friday was the weekend, so there was no way for her to know then. After she got home, she spent most of her day alternating between being ready to cry—sometimes doing so—and scrambling to pull up anything to comfort herself. It was hard to stop thinking about everything she did. Memories of her clinging to Hanako, whispering those flirtatious words to him were seared into her mind.
She couldn’t bring herself to write the events in her diary, when she knew poems about Hanako would be awaiting. Those were hers. A safe place to pour out her feelings in flowery language, mull over the butterflies beating inside her. He was never meant to know of them. Love-potion-her spilling them felt oddly invasive of her personal space.
Saturday and Sunday, she decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and make a plan. Kou was right. No matter what, she needed to talk to him. The only issue was figuring out what to say. She wrote scripts upon scripts, crumpling them up or rewriting everything. Several conversations happened with Black Canyon, and she’d die in a puddle of embarrassment if anyone had to bear witness to them. Still, a hamster isn’t Hanako. The major problem with a script was that she had no idea how he’d respond to anything she said. Hanako, as always, eluded her. She wished she could know what he was thinking.
Monday rolled around. Unstable confidence drove her that day, brought on by Kou’s encouragement. He’d been nothing but supportive since Friday, and she appreciated it.
Somehow, it didn’t cross her mind that Hanako wouldn’t be there.
The empty bathroom was a punch to the gut.
He’s avoided her before. It’s not new. But she thought two days would have been enough. And she realized, why would it be enough? It wasn’t a simple mistake, or one moment of vulnerability. She put a landslide of feelings on him. It was hard to not wonder if she crossed the line. If this time, Hanako wouldn’t come back.
It’s Tuesday now.
She stares blankly at the assignment in front of her. Each class she’s been spacing out, lectures from her teachers bouncing off her. This one is no different. The words on the page have become incomprehensible, and no matter how many times she rereads, her brain doesn’t register them.
Eventually she gives up, slumping onto her desk. The wood is cool against her cheek. Instinctively, she begins doodling in the margins of the paper.
Hanako. Abstract lacey designs. His hakujoudai. Her pencil stops after the third. The green hakujoudai usually follows her around like a duckling to its mother. She hasn’t seen it around lately.
Familiar dread eats at her heart, ripping it piece by piece.
The future’s unseeable, hurtling at her in full speed, and she doesn’t know if it’ll run her over or hold her gently. She and Hanako will have to talk. They’ll reach a conclusion, and she’ll force herself to be fine with what it ends up being, even if it’s not what she wants.
She’s not sure what she wants. Her hands ache, longing to hold Hanako’s and keep him close. Her heart pounds in anticipation, terrified and awaiting for how Hanako will receive it. Deep inside her, pained strings pull, wishing more than anything for a future so bright yet out of reach. Impossible to reach, part of her screams. But we could make it, the other hopes.
Seconds tick agonizingly slow. Minutes speed by.
Her pencil scratches her paper, the sound soothing to listen to. She checks the time, again and again, willing this final class to be over. Soon. Almost. Come on, come on—
She half-lunges out of her seat when the bell rings. Skidding to the door, she nearly rams herself into a passing student, not paying mind as she frees herself from the swarm. Keeping a jog as to not get yelled at for running in the halls, her thoughts swirl, all pinning down on a certain ghost. This time, she thinks. This time he’ll be there.
The bathroom comes into view. Please. She’s just a few inches away. Please. Her feet come to a halt in the doorway.
Her breath stops.
Sitting on the windowsill, golden sunlight bathed around him, is Hanako.
He’s here.
Her knees wobble in allayment. Stumbling, she catches herself on the doorway, eyes never leaving the sight in front of her. He came back. She licks her dry lips, pressing them together in a determined line. Inhale. Exhale.
Her hand slides off the wall, legs slowly bringing her inside. Each step sounds a ripple of noise in the quiet room.
He doesn’t acknowledge her, carefully facing the stained glass.
It seems she’ll have to take initiative. Mentally calming herself, she takes one more step, lacing her fingers together. Deep breaths. “Hanako-kun,” she begins. “Um… about Friday…”
Subtly, his head tips, the single notion he heard her.
“…Friday,” he repeats. He slides off the windowsill, holding his hands behind his back. There’s a bright smile on his face. He strides to her, cheerful façade not missing a beat. “Let’s just forget about it, okay? If you’re here to apologize, it’s fine.” He tilts his head, amber eyes staring at her without a hint of waver. “We can put it behind us now.”
He turns around, like everything’s fine, like nothing happened at all. It should be the end of the conversation. This is always the end of the conversation with Hanako.
Searing frustration rams into her. “I don’t want to!” she chokes out. Hanako pauses. She takes a step forward. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I think we should! At least—at least listen to what I have to say.”
He angles his head to look at her, eyes screwed. “Yashiro…”
“I’m sorry for what I did. For putting you in that position,” she says first, lingering shame curdling in her guts. “I’ve been thinking about what happened. And… we’ve been a little silly. I know you’re dead and I’m not. I know we can’t be together the normal way. But can’t we try while we still have time? Why do we have to never say our feelings? Why can’t we talk about this?” she asks, throat raw with a plea in her words. Her beating heart propels her with each sentence, bringing her closer and closer to the confession it burns to say.
“Because”—Shutting her eyes, she lowers her head—“I love you, Hanako-kun!”
And there it is.
Her hands tremble, clenched into fists. She can’t bear to look at him. She has to. On the brink of falling apart, held together with the need to see this through, she raises her head.
An anguished face stares back.
“I—” Hanako opens his mouth, then closes it. Everything about him screams devastation, and Nene doesn’t know what she did wrong. Sliding his hat off, he runs a hand through his hair, taking interest in the floor with pinched eyes. “Yashiro, I can’t… this isn’t… we can’t be together,” he finishes weakly.
Oh.
Irritation consumes her dread, giving her the confidence to speak. “Why not? If we both like each other, can’t we give it a chance?”
“I’m not a good person,” he says, ever-so-softly. “I’m a selfish monster. I’ve hurt countless people, and I didn’t care. I didn’t even care about you, at first. I looked at you, and I knew you were going to die, and it didn’t matter to me. You’ll figure it out, someday, and you won’t want me anymore.”
It’s almost too much to take in. She inhales, shuddery and quick, and continues. “You’ve—you’ve given me the worst parts of yourself without defending it, without explanation, and I’m still here, aren’t I? Doesn’t that mean something?”
There’s a lot of things she can think of. All the times Hanako’s shown a darker side of himself, even stood in her way for his own desperation, blocking off his emotions in the iciest demeanor he can manage.
She thinks of the brother he murdered. Hanako has never tried defending the action. He told her in the bluntest way possible, no justification, no reasoning at all, and she stayed.
“You don’t know why I did it,” Hanako stresses. “You know nothing about me. You’d hate me if you did.”
“You’re right, I don’t know anything, Hanako-kun!” Nene sniffs, tears prickling in her eyes. “The only things you’ve told me are vague at best! But that’s why you should tell me. That’s why we should talk about this.” She grips her uniform, vision blurring. “You can’t decide I’m going to hate you when you haven’t given me the chance to love you yet.”
He still looks conflicted, pleading in his eyes. “Yashiro, I’m just going to hurt you. My existence is selfish. Loving me won’t give you anything. I can’t be there when you need me, or give you what you deserve. I’m stuck like this.”
She strides forward, lacing his free hand into hers. He doesn’t pull away. “You’ve already given me the world,” she whispers. “You helped me be a better person. You… you showed me what real love is like.”
“…this isn’t going to last,” he mumbles, low and shaky. “The person you’re going to grow old with isn’t me.”
“Then let’s try while we can,” she pushes resolutely. “Even if it doesn’t last, that’s never mattered to me. Not with you. Just having you here is enough.”
If, she thinks. Hanako’s too important to her for her to leave him behind. She’s going to find a way to stay—one that isn’t dying—as long as she can. But that conversation is for later.
“While we can,” Hanako echoes quietly, a hint of consideration in his voice.
She could leave it here. Or, she could follow the leap her heart so desperately wants to take. It could ruin how far she’s gotten, but it could be the last push they need.
“And,”—She casts her gaze to the side, blush forming on her face—“that was my first kiss. But a first kiss is special. It should be when you both feel safe, and want to do it. So I’ve decided it doesn’t count.”
Rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, she takes a preparing breath. “Which means we can try again.”
He stills. “Huh?”
“If—if you want to!” she smiles nervously, anxiety wrapping around her throat. Oh, God, why did she say anything? “We don’t have to! I just thought that maybe if we both like each other—only if you’re fine with it, of course! A-actually, nevermind, just forget I said anything—”
“Yashiro.”
She stops.
He holds her chin, tilting her up to face him. Scrunched amber eyes meet her, surrounded by pink-blushed skin and red ears. There’s an unsure smile on his face, incredulous and warm with a familiar edge of teasing to it. “Are you saying you want to kiss me?”
She flushes, unable to look away. The only thing she can do is nod.
Hanako sighs, overtly fond. He untangles his hand from hers, resting it on her shoulder blade. “A magic spell,” he murmurs, leaning forward, “to make us feel better.”
She always fantasized of warm lips, glittering sunlight with flower petals, standing under a romantic tree with the breeze in her hair. Or maybe after a long day of increasingly charming activities, hand in hers as the wonderful day ends with a sweet kiss. Fairytale after picturesque images, piling on each other and filling her mind since middle school.
His lips are cold. Bitter ice and the faint taste of chocolate reach her mouth, a calloused hand resting on her cheek while the other pulls her close. Streams of dying gold and red fill the room, air sharp with the tinge of chemicals.
It’s better than she could have ever dreamed.
Kissing him is right, as if their lips were made for this exact purpose, heart swelling in her chest at the sensation. It might burst from the feelings pounding in her, warm and bright and overwhelming, the call of anticipation and final twist of relief that she’s finally holding Hanako close.
When they pull away, his eyes are bright. A dazzling smile lies on his face, vivid as the burning sun behind him.
His mouth opens, looking as if he wants to say something, but a soft laugh comes out instead. She’s so full of joy it hurts, and she finds herself laughing too, the two of them melting into each other in a giggling, breathless mess. Hanako buries his head into the crook of her neck, hand on her cheek moving to her occipital. He maneuvers her to rest on his shoulder, body pressing against hers.
“I love you too,” Hanako breathes.
Nene’s cheeks hurt from how big she’s smiling. I love you too. I love you too. The butterflies in her chest have left, making room for something much, much more real.
His breath is soft near her ear. “I’m sorry for ignoring this for so long.”
“We kinda both did.”
Her scalp tingles from his nails lightly scratching against it. Hanako 's head shifts. “I was scared of hurting you.” His voice lowers for the next confession, barely audible. “Of you hurting me. I guess I still am. There’s so much love in your heart, and mine felt dead. But you gave me so much of it, I began to really love again. It’s…”
“Scary?” she offers. “I’m not you, but I kind of get it. Honestly, I was starting to think no one would ever love me. Something just felt wrong with me. Like I wouldn’t ever be what someone wanted.”
She wasted countless years in her chase for someone, anyone, to love her. She regrets those years more than anything. She could have been focusing on what made her happy, instead of shaping herself for people who would never be satisfied.
“You’re what I want,” Hanako says, a simple fact, like nothing in the world could change it. “It was always you.”
Tears burst in her eyes.
Hanako pulls back just enough to be face-to-face, expression soft. “Oh. Oh, hey, shh, it’s okay…” He wipes away her tears with a gentle hand.
“S-sorry, I’m just—” She flaps a hand, shaking out her energy. “I’m so happy.”
Hanako cups her face, brushing away her newly formed tears and squishing her cheeks. She waves her hand as he does, shaking her head and burying her face into his chest. Shushing her softly, he pats her head, keeping a close hold on her.
“Mm… love you,” she mumbles into his gakuran.
“You already said that.”
“I can say it again, can’t I?” She raises her head, looking up at him. “I-love-you.”
His cheeks flush. An annoyed puff leaves his mouth, and he averts his eyes. “…love you too.” A pause. “Even if you have daikon legs.”
“Hanako-kun!” she bursts out, pulling away. “That’s it, I take it all back!”
“Yashirooo,” Hanako whines, following her across the room. “Nooo, I just couldn’t resist! I haven’t teased your legs in four days! That’s four too many!”
“Four too short,” she sulks, turning with shut eyes. Daring a peek, she finds Hanako grinning without remorse.
They stare at each other for a good second.
Then simultaneously burst into giggles.
He leans into her, staggering to keep his balance as he laughs. She feels lighter than she has in her life, higher than the clouds in the presence of the person she loves. Hanako’s smile is infectious, pure and genuine as he directs that beautiful attention to her.
It fades. Fiddling with his hat, he places it back onto his head, facing the window. “I said I’d tell you everything, if you stuck around. So, I will,” he informs, turning back to her. “Tomorrow. Is that okay?”
Her heart may as well leap out of her chest. “Of course it is.”
“I don’t want to put it off any longer, but I want a little more time like this.” He holds his hands. “Just a day of happiness.”
She takes his hands, unfolding them into hers. “And we’ll have days of happiness after. I’m not going to leave you,” she says, a promise.
Precarious silence falls over. Unlike the past few days, it's a comfortable one, the feeling of being home warm in her heart. Hanako studies her hands, twining them into his. Shyly, “I love you.”
Her forehead leans against his, creating a small space in the world, just for the two of them.
“I love you too.”