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Nene ran as fast as she could, tears welled up in her eyes, and blurred her vision. Her heart ached as she kicked off her heels, and dropped to the ground of her vegetable garden. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought, pulling out her hairpins. She had worked so hard to style her hair up, and now she felt pathetic. She could picture Hanako laughing at her—radish jokes ensued. She groaned, smacking her forehead.
“Yashiro? What are you doing here by yourself?”
Hanako-kun, her heart stammered, and her fingers froze before they could undo the last pin.
“Nothing,” she said, her voice sounded far off. If she focused on one spot—the tomatoes—everything will be okay, she told herself.
“I thought you were all excited over your date to the dance,” he said, and sat down beside her. His arm brushed against hers, and despite the warm night, Nene shivered. The last hairpin drop to the ground, and her hair cascaded down her back in waves.
In the distance, she could hear music from the dance she’d fled. Her stomach clenched as she remembered the way Fuji-kun had looked at some girl Nene recognized from Class 1-B; it was the kind of look that Nene always dreamt someone would look at her with—as if she were the moon and stars and—
“Let me guess,” said Hanako abruptly, answering her silence with an air of haughtiness to him, “you stepped on his toes too many times and he had to go to the hospital and now you’re in hiding.”
She finally met Hanako’s big, amber eyes, and a teasing smirk on his face. She tried to smile, and wave him off, don’t be ridiculous, was what she wanted to say, but the second she opened her mouth, she choked on her words and all the strength she’d built up crumbled in an instant. Nene sobbed, burying her face into her hands.
“Gah—Yashiro, what’s wrong?” Hanako’s voice rose several pitches.
“I was never his date!” she wailed, and Hanako flinched. “He-he asked me to be his backup date in case his real date didn’t come—but she came!”
“But you said—”
“I lied because I was embarrassed—and now it hurts. Everything hurts!” She was so ashamed of herself. She only agreed to the date because—because she wanted to make Hanako jealous—that there was someone who wanted to date her.
Hanako silently stood up, feet planted on the ground instead of his usual floating. He reached down, and his hands gently circled her wrists. “Stop that,” he mumbled, and pulled Nene up. He kept his head low, his amber eyes hidden in the shadow of his hat, but the moonlight revealed the reddening of his cheeks.
“Hanako-kun,” she sniffled, “what are you…?”
“Just relax,” he murmured, as if careful not to disturb the night. He gently guided her hands to his shoulders, and he placed his low on her hips, and she wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she could have sworn she felt his fingers tremble.
Nene’s face burned, and she found herself unable to look at his face, and it seemed like Hanako was avoiding hers as well. She focused on a random spot on his uniform. Slowly, they danced to the ghost of the music, her heart thrummed to the phantom tune.
And Nene would never know how badly Hanako had wished to be the one to dance with her.