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At what was possibly the last year of her life, Nene had a literature class, and they were going to talk of fate. And that would have been fine, but Hanako’s arms tightened around her middle, his breath coming in short bursts, warm against her skin.
Nene reached upwards, grasped cold fingers and intertwined them with her own.
“So, fate,” her teacher had gone on, pink hair slipping from a messy bun. She was a substitute for the heavily pregnant Sasaki-sensei, taking her maternity leave and leaving her class of largely disinterested teenagers in the hands of a foreigner with almost accent-less Japanese, “Fate is…a thing. In books. In terms of narrative, fate is what the author can use to excuse every single plot hole they’re too poor to have edited by a professional.”
Hanako snorted into her hair.
“One of the most popular examples in country legend is the red string of fate. But you know that, I know that, so instead of rehashing stuff you’ve heard a million times, I want something local.”
She tapped at the board with chalk, “Anyone who wants extra points, give me a story worth hearing,” and sent them a grin over her shoulder.
That seemed to net a few students from the afternoon daze, glazed over eyes blinking to refocus. Nene wouldn’t have been able to raise her hand if she wanted to, still holding Hanako’s in hers, but Yamabuki’s shot up quicker than the rest. She could remember that he was always low on the rankings, not for lack of trying.
“There’s the 4PM Bookstacks,” he said, without the waver in his voice usually present when he was called on, “’When you go to the library at 4PM, you’ll find a section where the fates of the students are recorded. White books are for students who are alive, black for the dead.’ Nobody knows why, but you’re not supposed to read red books, or else…eh, something bad happens.”
The substitute pointed her pen at Yamabuki, “Now that was actually interesting. Enjoy your extra points.”
Yamabuki pumped a fist in the air.
Nene would have turned around and given him an encouraging thumbs-up but Hanako was still, as usual, latched on to her, so. And that would have been fine, except that unlike usual, Hanako’s eyes seemed to be turned inward, largely absent even as his hands were tangled in her hair.
Nene surreptitiously reached upwards and squeezed at his forearm, while the teacher was turned away. The only response she received was a gentle brush against her cheek, his face back to nuzzling the base of her neck.
Nene’s chest twinged.
The lecture continued on, the bombastic cheer of the substitute keeping most of the students some level of awake even when it was just after lunch, which really was an accomplishment all on its own.
Normally, Nene could enjoy that much open passion, found it infectious and would often find herself sharing it, but. Two days ago she woke from a painted dream, and just this morning she had woken up in her apartment and thought, “Ah, I’m going to die soon.”
It covered her daily life with a thin film of grey, colors dulled, light just a little less warm than it was in the Before period.
If she closed her eyes and pushed through the image of Hanako’s shaky voice and warm grip on her shoulders, the ‘I want you to l i v e’ reverberating through the inside of her skull, she could still find that dark lump of fury nesting in the pit of her stomach.
The fact it was still there made her skin crawl, ‘ungrateful’ warring with ‘he had no r i g h t’ warring with ‘he just wanted me to live.’
Hanako just wanted her to live, and had bent the rules he had abided to for over five decades to fight for half a scrap of a chance. For her.
So Nene choked back her fury and tried to find grateful.
“That’s a look I haven’t seen before on you, Yashiro,” Hanako’s voice whispered, warm on her skin.
“Just thinking,” she murmured back in reply.
Hanako hummed, hands tightening around her middle, and Nene gripped her pencil as her heart pulsated.
Hanako didn’t deign to give a comment.
About three-quarters before the class ended, the substitute quickly scribbled out their deskwork assignment in chalk.
“Give me a short story revolving fate,” she had said, arms thrown to the side, “Use anything we used in our discussion today. Or, hey, your own interpretation. Make it an original or a fanfiction, why not? Have fun!”
The rustle of papers and bag zippers interrupted the still classroom air, dust particles floating in through sunlight falling erratically. Murmurs exchanged, the teacher’s heels tapping gently on linoleum.
Nene stared own at the paper blank on her desk and blinked, oh.
She…hadn’t really been paying attention.
She paled. Oh gosh, she hadn’t been paying attention. Now what was she supposed to do?! She had been—
“Distracted, Yashiro?” he chuckled, breath fanning over her skin, sending shivers up her spine. She could feel heat climbing up her face, and she hunched down on her desk and hoped that no one noticed.
Her shoulders tensed, sure he was going to do the Hanako thing and do something to tear a reaction out of her. But a minute passed, then two, and Hanako seemed content to just lounge on her without further action.
Well.
A short story couldn’t be that hard, right? She daydreamed atleast 80% of her waking life, so she was pretty sure she had some level of creativity. All she had to do was put it on paper.
So.
So!
So—
Nene put her hands on her face and groaned.
She didn’t get it! She didn’t – she could pull out a prince from any otome game she’s ever played and the image would be perfect as a main love interest, but—
“Writer’s blocked, Yashiro-san?”
Hanako’s grip on her tightened, minutely, and Nene looked up to see the substitute teacher smiling down at her.
“Um,” she said, intelligently, and the teacher chuckled.
“It’s alright. I don’t need a masterpiece,” she said, leaning down, “Can I see what you’ve started? I could probably nudge you to the finish line.”
Nene flushed, the back of her neck feeling far too hot, “I…I haven’t…started…anything?” she squeaked.
The teacher’s brow arched, although the air of amusement didn’t fade even when they both looked back to the clock that said, ‘fifteen minutes left, dummy.’
“Must be a pretty bad block,” the teacher said breezily, and looked around the classroom, prompting Nene to do the same. Half the class was done it seemed, the teacher letting students chat amongst themselves so long as they weren’t obnoxious about it.
Nene wanted to sink into the floor.
The teacher laughed, waving her hand in the air as though it would swat Nene’s awkwardness away, “It’s alright. Here, you can get a story started with a few questions.”
The teacher sat back on her heels, “Let’s see…fate. Is there anything you’ve dreamt up you wanted to happen, no matter what? You could make your character get it, and we can go form there.”
The words ‘I want a prince I can have a happily ever after with’ formed on her tongue, but when Hanako exhaled, the image in her mind changed and all she could see was—
“I want you to live.”
And they fizzled to nothing on her tongue.
In the end, all Nene could do was shake her head.
“Alright,” the teacher nodded, finger tapping on her chin, “What about something you don’t want to happen, even though it looks hopeless? Oh, hey,” the older woman snapped her fingers in revelation, “We can even use that bookstacks rumor thing to base it on.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to die,” Nene had blurted out, without really thinking, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She couldn’t bring herself to look at either Hanako, or her teacher, “My…main character. She went into the bookstacks. She read her book. And – she’s going to die soon. Maybe…maybe she’s scared, but can’t do anything but. But act strong in front of her friends. But it’s all acting. And—”
Nene’s breath hitched, “She doesn’t want to die. And she can’t even talk about it to others because no one would believe her.”
Words left her in a rush, a single breath, and she could feel Hanako’s frame shake against hers. Apologies murmured against her skin.
The teacher hummed.
“…Huh. So, a subversion? Go for it,” she said, cheery voice unchanged, “What does her book say, exactly? She’s going to die soon? How soon?”
“Within a year,” Nene whispered.
“And her goal?” the teacher prompted, “Every story needs a goal, and a main character that wants it badly enough to do anything to get it.”
“But the rumors say that nothing in the books can be changed, it’s fate,” Nene said, desperation barely kept out of her voice, “No one has ever managed to change it…,” her voice trailed off, “Except for one.”
“How are the rumors relevant to this?” the teacher asked, head tilting, frowning a bit.
Nene stuttered, “Um— it’s. It’s for the…s-story? The rumors are real? And, um, whatever happens in the rumors are what will really happen?”
The teacher whistled lowly, “That’s some a-grade creativity there, Yashiro-san. You may have a knack for this.”
“…Thanks,” Nene said weakly, and could see Hanako giving her an unreadable stare from over her shoulder.
The older woman beamed, “Now, we have a lot to work with here. So, our main is a girl who’s presumably a student here?” at this, Nene nodded, “And she’s supposedly supposed to die because of whatever she read in the book. There’s our conflict.”
She clapped her hands, “Now, what does main girl do to avoid dying?”
“She doesn’t…know,” Nene supplied quietly, pencil tapping on the empty paper, “You can’t…change fate.”
“But does she want to?” her teacher prompted.
Nene whirled to face her, lips wobbling, “More than anything.”
“Then she will,” her teacher laid a palm flat on the table, voice unwavering in conviction, “She already has a chance, after all.”
“How?” Nene asked, despite herself, knowing that her teacher would never see any of this more than make-believe.
The teacher tapped a finger on Nene’s desk, “You mentioned that someone managed to subvert the books once, yes?”
“Y-yeah. He’s…” Nene’s gaze flitted back to where Hanako was, fingers reaching upwards to trace words on his skin.
‘Is it alright? I just,’ she paused, chewing her lip, ‘I just really need to talk about it.’
“…Fine,” he breathed, “I heard from Tsuchigomori she’s leaving today anyway.” And she didn’t believe anything was real, was what neither of them said.
“He’s…?” her teacher prompted.
“He’s a ghost,” Nene whispered out, “Um. I don’t want anyone else hearing me, if that’s alright, sensei?”
“More than,” the teacher confirmed, lowering her voice too, “Now, how does she know this ghost?”
“They’re friends,” Nene answered back, hands cupped around her mouth, “He was one of the reasons she went into the bookstacks in the first place. His, uhm, his book was— black. He was supposed to be a teacher.”
Her voice hitched, “He died, instead.”
Hanako stroked her hair, still so oddly silent. Or maybe not so oddly, because of the topic at hand.
“Whatever helps you feel better,” he was all but saying.
Her teacher nodded, eyes considering, “So he subverted fate by cutting it off himself. Hm.”
“What should she do, sensei?” Nene asked, eyes dropping back down to her paper, “She doesn’t know much about anything and it’s scary. She doesn’t know what to do.”
“Personally,” her teacher started once again, something unreadable in the undercurrent of her voice, “I like to gather facts first. Would you like to take a gander?”
Nene nodded, because what else was there to do?
“So, fact one: anything the rumor says goes, yeah? Write this down, Yashiro-san, having a visual helps when we’re brainstorming for our mains,” her teacher hummed, bringing out her own pen from her pocket, “Fact two. Well, okay, no, question two. Are these rumors only applicable to the school?”
Nene nodded, scribbling out the first thing she was requested to write down.
“Okay, that’s fact two. Fact three: the bookstacks rumor says that whatever you read will come true ala fate. Got it all down?”
Both of them looked down at the short list on Nene’s paper, and then the teacher reached down and crossed out Fact Three.
“So here’s what I’m thinking,” she said, that passion leaking through, and this must have been quite a story to her, ill-fated and tragic, “Fact three: all the fates in the books are absolute. Fact four: this is false. Once an absolute is broken then it can never go back. So, we can change fate, with extreme circumstances. Done and proven. With a sample size of one, though, it looks like only you can do that, and no one else can do it for you.”
Nene exchanged a glance with Hanako. There was a slight tick to his left eye, brows wrinkled.
Her teacher’s eyes shone, “God, this is like philosophy class. I miss teaching that. Anyway, fact two: the rumors are to the school and the school only. Nothing to disprove about that, but it does say something about fact one.”
She traced her pen over to the first sentence, “If this rumor is confined to the school, and what the rumor says goes, then it’s not too much of a stretch to say that the rumor only effects the school.”
“Yes…?” Nene offered. She didn’t see where this was going.
“And,” her teacher said, holding up a finger with bright eyes, “Rumors can change from interpretation. When it says, ‘tells the fate of the student,’ our main girl thinks that it says ‘tells what is going to happen no matter what’. Are you following me so far?”
Nene nodded hesitantly.
“So,” her teacher continued, “What if she’s wrong?”
Hanako abruptly stopped breathing next to her.
Nene’s brows scrunched together, a thought at the very back of her throat salty on her tongue, unreachable, “I don’t…”
“What I mean,” her teacher fanned her hands out, looking excited, “is that what if her interpretation of the rumor is wrong? And it isn’t so much that the bookstacks ‘tell her fate’ so much as it ‘tied her down into a set fate because she was a student here.’”
Her teacher continued on, speech turning rapid-fire, “I mean, main doesn’t have all the information, so what she knows now could be outdated. Since the rumors only have power in the school, if she was never a student here, she would never ave a book! And if she didn't have a book, she wouldn't have to die! And that would just open up all sorts of paths for our main. She could transfer out – although I guess that would be dangerous, the ‘fate’ thing might have been permanent the second she stepped into the school and wouldn’t be reversed outside – or she could change the rumor! Although it wouldn’t be much of a story if that happened too easily, huh?” she chuckled, and it was a muted sound over the rushing in Nene’s ears, “It would be fun to write out her reaction when she finds out that she could have had a good life had she not enrolled here.”
She looked back, towards the clock, not seeing the way Nene’s pulse seemed to stutter in erratic beats against her chest, the way she was gripping her pencil as Hanako went still behind her, so still, she couldn’t even feel his heartbeat.
“Oh boy, where’d the time go,” her teacher murmured, “God, I must’ve bored you half to death, Yashiro-san. Sorry, my mouth gets ahead of me a lot.”
Nene opened her mouth, but found her mouth too dry to form words.
“Well, you can swing by the faculty after classes and pass it then,” her teacher said, tucking her pen away with warmth lacing her words, “Don’t worry, I’ll be packing up here until five. Plenty of time.”
She started walking away, leaving Nene with half a revelation and a ghost’s breathing turning ragged in her ear, “Have fun, Yashiro-san! I can’t wait to read how our girl will kill fate.”