Chapter Text
That revelation should have come with more fanfare.
But it didn’t.
For one small moment, Hanako had allowed himself to want—and he wanted Nene to live. He wanted her to grow up, grow old, accomplish everything she had ever dreamed of, get married, start a family and live the rest of her days surrounded by people who loved her.
It was a nice thought—but it still didn’t change anything.
So what if he wanted her to live? It wasn’t as if her lifespan would magically extend itself on his account. And the universe had made it quite clear on several occasions that it had a personal vendetta against his desires.
Because, for all he was, and for all the supposed supernatural powers he possessed … there was nothing he could do.
Frustrated with his own helplessness, Hanako clenched his hands into fists—starting slightly in surprise when he heard the crinkle of paper.
The Tanzaku slips were still in his grip, multicolored paper catching the bright flashes of the fireworks. There was absolutely nothing special about them, they were just ordinary pieces of paper. They weren’t going to bend reality simply because you wrote something on them.
And, even if by some miracle they were magically enchanted paper slips, it still wouldn’t be that easy. Granted wishes weren’t as painless as stating what you wanted. There was always a price to pay.
Hanako knew this. He had learned that lesson so many times that it ought to be drilled into his head by now.
And yet …
“Nene-chan!” he called urgently, getting the girl’s attention back from the fireworks as he shoved the fan of paper slips into her small hands. “I want you to take all of these.”
“A-all of them?” Nene squeaked, glancing down at the Tanzaku, then up at him with round eyes. “But I wanted to give them to you, for your wish!”
“I don’t need them, I know what my wish is now,” Hanako replied with a confidence that didn’t match how he should be feeling about this revelation.
“Really, what is it?” Nene asked eagerly.
“Secret~” Hanako smirked, making her pout.
Then Nene’s shoulders slumped, looking crestfallen. “You were so nice to me,” she mumbled. “So I wanted to do something nice for you too …”
Hanako almost laughed. Like she needed to do anything for him. She had already done everything and more; she had talked to him, reached out to him, treated him like a person instead of the monster he was. She had given him the greatest gift in the world, simply by existing in it.
“You’ve done something nice,” he assured her. “I only know what I want now thanks to you.”
That seemed to cheer Nene up a bit, then she looked down at her paper fan and her eyes sparkled. “Wow, I could have so many pet hamsters with these …”
“Maybe wait until next year for the hamsters,” Hanako suggested with a nervous laugh. Then, he knelt in front of her and took her by the shoulders, looking directly into her wide garnet eyes.
“This is important,” he said seriously. “So I need you to do exactly what I say, alright?”
Nene nodded, transfixed.
“Write the same message on every slip before you hang them on the wishing tree,” Hanako instructed. “I want you to wish for a long, happy life. If you do that—”
No, it’ll never work—
Wishes aren’t granted for free—
Some stupid pieces of paper won’t save her life—
Hanako swallowed. “Then your wish will definitely come true,” he finished.
“Seems like a boring wish,” Nene commented. “But, if you say so, then I’ll do it!”
Hanako sighed, letting his cold hand rest on her warm little head. This was never going to work, but surely it couldn’t hurt to at least try?
Something tugged at the edges of his consciousness.
Looking up, he saw Haku-Joudai floating above the stalls, flickering urgently amongst the lingering sparks of the fireworks.
You found the way back? Hanako asked mentally.
Both will-o’-the-wisps bounced in affirmation.
Good, I’ll be right over, Hanako motioned for them to wait for him behind the trees. “Wow, it’s gotten pretty late,” he said out loud. “I should get going.”
Nene’s head immediately snapped up, dismay stretching across her features. “You’re leaving!” she gasped, almost dropping her wishing slips as she grabbed onto his sleeve.
“Yeah, I need to go home,” Hanako answered gently.
Nene’s distraught frown didn’t waver, nor did her tight grip on his sleeve. “Will I ever see you again?” she asked, lip wobbling.
“Yeah, you will,” Hanako promised easily.
No, I hope you don’t …
I hope you won’t be able to see me …
I hope you won’t have any reason to summon me in the first place …
“But, until then~” he brushed a lock of hair from her face, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “A special good luck charm to keep you safe.”
A red kanji blazed on her skin where his lips had touched.
七
It lasted a moment before fading away, leaving only the dormant power inside her, a cape of protection to look after her until the day she came knocking on his door. Well, if this worked then she never would come knocking on his door.
That would be for the best.
The second he pulled away, Nene blushed furiously, reaching up a tentative hand to touch her forehead.
Using her distraction, Hanako easily slipped out of her grasp.
“Wait!” Nene cried, trying to chase after him only to stumble over her yukata again, arms windmilling as she struggled to catch her balance.
The ghost looked back one last time. “Goodbye … Yashiro.”
Haku-Joudai were waiting for him at the edge of the fair, where the stalls ended. Glancing back at the little girl he had left behind, he wondered when she had changed, when she lost her confidence in her own beauty.
But, despite that, she was still the same Nene he knew and loved.
She was still kind and generous, giving whatever she had to people who didn’t deserve it, simply out of the goodness of her heart. She still took in the world with childish wonder, finding joy in the mundane things most would overlook.
Out of all the people, Nene deserved to have a full life.
Haku-Joudai swirled around him, their tails blurring together in a haze of white smoke. The ground shifted, earth falling away plunging him through space and time …
“ … kun!”
“Hanako-kun!”
He heard her sweet voice before he opened his eyes. Quickly taking a mental check of his surroundings, he deduced that he had a throbbing headache. And his cloths were soaked; cold, uncomfortable moisture saturating the thick material of his jacket, shallow water lapping gently around him.
But his head was warm, pillowed on something soft.
Cracking his eyes open, he was greeted with the extremely welcome sight of his teenage assistant looking down at him in worry. Taking note of their position, he realized that he was lying in the street where he remembered falling, his head resting on Nene’s lap where she sat beside him.
“You’re awake,” Nene whispered, as if she were afraid loud noises might hurt him. “Are you okay?”
Hanako blinked—then quickly shut his eyes. “I’m feeling lightheaded,” he moaned. “I think I need mouth-to-mouth.”
He made sure to peek up at the girl in time to see her expression shift from concern to exasperation. Good, she shouldn’t be worried, especially about him.
“Why do I bother caring about you?” Nene grumbled.
“Because I’m irresistibly charming!” Hanako quipped, sitting up and rubbing his head gingerly. “So what happened, anyway?”
“You got hit by a cow,” Kou said, leaning casually against one the stands.
“That explains the headache,” Hanako muttered, wincing as pain twinged through his temple. “How long was I out?”
The previously bustling crowd that had busied their way through the streets before had dwindled as they all gathered towards the bamboo tree.
“Not long,” Kou answered. “About a minute.”
Just a minute.
So … that probably had been a dream after all.
That was for the best anyway. It’s not as though those wishing slips could have changed fate. That absolutely did not give him a vaguely empty feeling. In fact, it didn’t even matter at all. He had a weird dream and had allowed his defenses to slip briefly, that’s the only reason why he had succumbed to something as stupid as wishing for something.
He had even wished for Nene to live!
Wasn’t that funny?
Hanako levitated to his feet, snapping his fingers and prompting Haku-Joudai to whir around him, drying his clothes. “Well, we shouldn’t be waiting here, we’ll miss the fireworks!”
“Are you sure you should be moving so much?” Nene fretted, standing up as well. “You hit your head pretty badly, you might have a concussion.”
“Dead people don’t get concussions,” Hanako reminded her.
But Nene still insisted on them not going too quickly as they made their way to the center of the festival. They had just found a good spot when the first firework exploded.
Nene and Kou both gasped in wonder as the light and colors burst into the dark night sky.
Hanako watched the display nonchalantly. It was no less grand than the one he had seen in his dream—which was odd in and of itself. He didn’t have a vivid imagination when it came to trivial things, so why would he go and dream up such a realistic scenario?
It didn’t matter.
In the end, such futile dreams didn’t amount to anything. All they left was a wistful ache for the way things could have been, but would never be.
“Do you have all your Tanzaku ready, Senpai?” Kou asked. “Even if we don’t have all the colors, it’ll still be worth it to write our wishes and hang them up, right?”
“Definitely!” Nene agreed. “I’m not wasting a chance at slimmer legs, however small! What about you, though, what will you write?”
Kou reddened considerably and mumbled something that sounded like: “nothingimportantdontworryaboutit …”
“Well, what about you, Hanako-kun?” Nene asked.
The ghost started, then shrugged. “Nothing.”
Because it was pointless. For a few moments, he had deluded himself into believing that maybe he had a chance. The kid really was rubbing off on him too much. He had even believed that happy dream was reality.
“Nothing?” Nene stared at him, bewildered. She looked like she wanted to protest, then changed her mind and gave up. “Alright—but, if you’re not using your Tanzaku, then can I have them? Quantity matters here.”
“Hm, sure.” Hanako fished absently in his pocket—only for his hand to come up empty. “Huh, that’s weird. They’re all gone.”
“Maybe you dropped them when the cow hit you?” Kou suggested.
Hanako froze, struck by an impossible possibility.
Maybe he had already given them to someone else.
He spun around, gaze wildly searching Nene until it landed on the skull brooch she had pinned to the front of her yukata. “Hey Yashiro,” he began, trying to sound casual. “I’ve always wondered, that brooch of yours, it’s a weird accessory for a girl. Where’d you get it?”
Nene blinked, surprised by the sudden question, then softened as she reached up to touch clip. “It’s a funny story, but I actually got it at a festival like this! There was one that I went to every summer when I was little. Then, one year, I met an older boy who gave me this pin, then he kissed my forehead.”
Her fingers brushed against her brow, eyes misting as she tried to recall the faint memory. “It was so long ago, I can’t remember his name or his face. But I think he was my first crush!”
“Wow, that’s an awesome story, Senpai!” Kou praised.
Hanako was pretty sure something inside him had spontaneously combusted.
Somehow, he managed to plaster on a cocksure grin, putting a hand on his chin and feigning a thoughtful expression. “My, what’s this?” he purred. “Yashiro accepting gifts and kisses from older boys—what a naughty radish you are.”
Nene’s cheeks flared crimson. “T-that was a perfectly innocent gesture, stop making everything weird!”
Kou was quick to elbow the ghost in the ribs while offering his friend a wide smile. “Don’t listen to him, Senpai, I think your story was really cool!”
“Thank you, Kou-kun,” Nene said deliberately.
Grateful for their distraction, Hanako edged away from the duo, giving himself a moment to think. It hadn’t been a dream, then. Somehow, he truly had gone back in time and met his assistant at a tanabata festival. He had given her that brooch, and his Tanzaku.
But it hadn’t worked.
Because the girl standing next to him was still nearing the end of her life.
Well, of course it hadn’t worked—as if writing down a wish on a few ordinary pieces of paper could have done anything. But, rather than push him even farther into discouragement, it made his nerves steel with something almost akin to determination.
So what if the paper hadn’t worked? He would just find another way. He was the leader of the Seven Mysteries, wasn’t he? Who was to say that he couldn’t save one girl?
Okay, he really had let the kid rub off on him too much.
This kind of stupid blind optimism was Kou’s forte, reserved for a child who was still innocent to the way the world operated. Certainly not for someone like him who new all too well now the world operated.
Kou was a fool for believing, because he didn’t know better.
Hanako did know better, and yet he was starting to believe as well—which probably made him the bigger fool.
But he didn’t care.
One glance over at Nene clinched it. She was still laughing with Kou, pointing and marveling over the fireworks. She carried the cheer of a teenager who naturally assumed that she had her entire life ahead of her. She didn’t deserve to have that stolen from her.
And that was why Hanako made a wish. It wasn’t a frivolous wish that he might pawn off to some ridiculous ritual—but a real goal that he would have to work towards. Wishes didn’t come for free, but he was willing to pay any price, for he had nothing left to lose.
Nene deserved to live a full life.
And somehow, with these broken, bloodstained hands of his, Hanako was going to give it to her.
～俺の夏の光～
Seated at the table, surrounded by other children, Nene was scribbling down her wish on the assortment of Tanzaku. Her parents were waiting by the tree, ready to help her hang them up once she was ready.
A crayon in hand, she dutifully wrote the same words on each slip of paper, just as she had been instructed
ずーっとしあわせにくらせますように
It really was a boring wish, but she didn’t question it—after all, Hanako had told her to write it, so he must know what he was talking about. Older kids knew more stuff, that much she was certain about.
Every slip was written and ready to go—except for the last one, the crimson slip that had originally been hers. She picked up her crayon, about to copy the line out one more time … when she paused.
She had barely known Hanako for more than an hour, but she missed him already. The way he laughed, or bought her candy, or gently brushed her hair back to kiss her forehead with icy lips.
What was he doing right now?
While he had smiled brightly the whole time they were together, something else seemed to linger beneath the surface. Nene couldn’t recognize it, but he almost seemed … sad.
She hoped he wasn’t—she didn’t want him to be sad.
But Hanako had promised that they would see each other again one day. When would that be? If it was a really long time, then she might not be able to wait.
The red Tanzaku sat in front of her tantalizingly.
Just one wouldn’t hurt, right? She had written the long life wish on every other slip, surely it would be okay to keep one for herself.
So, Nene went to her parents to hang up her wishes, the same note written on every card—except the last one, which read:
はなおにいさんにまたあいたいな