Chapter Text
...Would still smell just as sweet.
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Kamome Academy was a place where legends were born and made real.
The school had been the one unchanging fixture within Shibuya of what was now Tokyo’s bustling financial district. Kamome had stood for a near century, its walls still made from the same stone that had been used to construct it all of those years ago, back when it had first been built over an old wooden school house that shared its land with an old Shinto shrine to the god, Inari.
There were strong spiritual roots here, even in the iron jungle that was Tokyo.
Perhaps that was the reason so many spirits were born here — were bound to this place.
Within the crowded, lively halls of Kamome Academy, secrets and rumors had a way of becoming tangible; real. All you really had to do was breathe life into that secret and it would animate itself.
Or in some cases — reanimate .
“Hey, have you heard this rumor?” A girl leans close to her friend during their lunch period. They sit at the same desk, hunched over, giggling. It is here that a rumor is whispered, a rumor to be spread. “If there’s someone that you love with all your heart, you should go to Kamome’s outdoor pool. If you throw a 5 yen coin into the pool and wish for your lover to be yours, the mermaid who lives in the depths of the pool will grant your wish.”
“Really?”
“Yes! It’s said that when she was alive she fell in love with a mortal that she couldn’t have, for she was a mermaid and he was a human. In the end, she tried to change her fate.”
“And then what happened?”
“What do you think happens when you try to change your destiny? She turned into sea foam and died!”
And so, she was born. Or was it reborn?
Just — like — that.
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Death wasn’t as dramatic as stories made it out to be.
Nene had read plenty of books growing up. Romance, drama, horror (her favorite!), and of course, tragedies. She had never been a big fan of that particular genre. It was always too melodramatic for her tastes, and not in the whimsical, romantic way that she liked. Death was always tragic, that was undeniably true, but in the stories, it always seemed as though the dying person would cling desperately to life, fighting with every fiber of their being to cling to that one final breath. Nene didn’t fight when she died.
“No -- no, Yashiro! You’ve got to fight! No, no, no--”
Oh, she wanted to fight, of course. She wanted to kick, to punch, to scream about how badly she wanted to live. She wanted to perform a long soliloquy about the unfairness of it all, the spotlight shining directly on her as she decried her fate. After all, who wanted to die at sixteen? There was still so much that she hadn’t done!
“Yashiro, hold on!”
She hadn’t gone on a real date, hadn’t gone on a long romantic walk underneath the starlight, nor had she been swept off of her feet, or even kissed. The subject of her own mortality had been a constant burden that she had carried with her since living in Shijima’s pseudo-perfect world. How could she not think about it, after all? Though, at the moment of death, it was as though all those feelings crashed within her, and the impact was both sudden and brutal. It was a strange duality, wanting so badly to live, and yet having not a slither of energy or ability to fight off that impending finality.
It was her fate , after all.
No, she couldn’t fight.
Nene had simply slipped away.
One moment, she was there — filled with light, with warmth. She had been helping Hanako with something — though, that was difficult to remember. What had she been helping him with? A yorishiro, perhaps. Yeah, that sounded right. One moment, she had been reaching to undo the
seal on a yorishiro. An action that she had done so many times before. She hadn’t even considered that this would be the moment that the sand within her hourglass would finally run out.
That was all that it took.
She doesn’t even feel being stabbed.
Then she’s losing feeling in all of her limbs, growing numb — cold .
“Yashiro!”
The most difficult part of dying, Nene thought, had been lying in Hanako’s arms as he held her and screamed. She remembered that with almost crystal clarity. Had she ever seen him cry before? Yes, she had. Thrice -- once as Amane, when he had still been full of life, bruised and sobbing in an empty classroom. Then once more on the school’s rooftop after he had encountered his brother, and again back in the painted world as he admitted how badly he wanted her to live. She had felt awful, then. He wanted her to live, to survive — and she wouldn't, even when he had taken on her wish to live for another 99 years.
An impossible wish.
Too impossible to grant.
A selfish wish. Just who was she to try to defy fate , after all?
She had promised herself that she would never be the source of those tears again, though. I’m just breaking all of my promises, she thought as she gazed up at him, his voice growing so far away. His voice sounded like nothing more than a distant, far off echo. He seemed so alive right now -- amber eyes burning, red and swollen with tears, as though he had true flesh to bruise and swell. He had been trembling, shaking her as he cried her name again and again.
Oh, she had thought as it hit her. I’m dying.
That sucks.
Nene had wanted to comfort him, to cup his cheek and promise that everything would be fine. She would be fine. She wanted to lie to him -- to assure him that her own mortality was nothing but a fallacy to be ignored. What happened? She wondered, watching his expression, as tears that she could not feel fell onto her skin. They should have been wet. Under normal circumstances, she might’ve even panicked about him getting her skin wet. Didn’t he know that she’d turn into a fish if she got too wet?
And with that last, foolish thought — she was gone.
Here — and then not.
No, death wasn’t the hard part.
It was leaving him behind -- knowing that she had caused that pain within his eyes. That was the hardest part.
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It was a bright and sunny morning when she regained consciousness.
At first, she hadn’t found anything to be amiss. The school bell hadn’t even rung yet as Nene stood just beyond the entrance to the school building. Strange , she thought to herself, looking around and taking in her surroundings. It was still too early for the rest of her classmates to arrive, earlier than she normally even came into school. Had she needed to finish something for Aoi in the gardening club? That was usually the only time that she came in early. “That has to be it,” she said, satisfied with her answer.
Something had felt off.
It was an odd feeling, as though her skin was pulled too tightly over her own body, as though her organs didn’t fit correctly inside of her. There was an acrid, bitter taste in her mouth that just didn’t seem to dissipate. Something was wrong; she couldn’t place just what. Nene’s lips twisted into a frown as she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember even coming to school. She didn’t even remember the previous day. Had she cleaned the toilets with Hanako? Had she eaten dinner? What had her mother prepared for her and her father? Her stomach felt -- off. There was a dull throbbing sensation in her belly, as though she had eaten something that hadn’t sat right with her. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the spot.
Had she remembered to clean Black Canyon’s cage? She had to clean it out every Wednesday.
What day even is it? Nene wondered, that awful feeling only growing, like bile rising in her throat. She could feel it gathering in her throat as she made it to the school gardens. It was empty, of course. It was still far too early for anyone else to be there. She looked around, checking the soil and growing even colder as she did so.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Something was very wrong.
The last time she had gone to her gardening club, they had harvested the tomatoes and cucumbers that had finally finished growing. She knew that she had meant to come in early and plant new vegetables for the summer season like Aoi had asked her to do, and if Aoi had delegated the task to Nene, that meant it was her job to get it done and hers alone.
And yet --
All of the summer vegetables had already been planted. Some of them were even fully grown. The squash plants were large and supple. They would need to be pulled soon.
How much time had passed?
When was it?
It couldn’t still be Spring. Hadn't the trees just been blossoming with soft pink petals days before? Calm down , she thought to herself, though it felt as though her heart was about to burst out of her chest. Her hands felt cold and clammy, as though they were covered in sweat.
One, two. Breathe.
Try to remember. There had to be an explanation for all of this —
What was it —
The memory came to her suddenly, barrelling through her mind like a bullet train.
-- There had been new supernaturals that had cropped up, plaguing the schools with their wretched pranks. Hanako had called them Amanojaku, imp-like troublemakers who had begun appearing around the school, whispering in the ears of the students before their cruel persuasion eventually incited the object of their torment to mischief and violence. It had started with arguments amongst the students within Nene’s class. Simple things -- everyone just seemed more on edge than usual, until the moment that Lemon-kun had thrown a punch right at Akane-kun’s face.
And then...
And then what?
It’s fine! She thought, even though she was already falling to her knees, nerves threatening to overtake her. I can just ask Hanako! He’ll know what happened!
She’d talk to him — and then he’d fill her in. Then, everything would make sense —
“Yashiro?” A voice whispered. She could barely even hear it, though she recognized the voice immediately. She could feel her breath catch in the back of her throat. Hanako! She thought. Good! It was just the person who she wanted to see! Nene smiled, all but scrambling to her feet as she turned around to face him. He was the same as he normally was — translucent as the rays of sunlight shone through his body. It was as though he was there, and yet not. A fading fixture in a solid world.
Haku-joudai hovered around him, though the two orbs appeared to be agitated about something. They shook in place, dashing around him as though in a frenzy. Hanako, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch.
“Hanako-kun!” she cried, delighted as she began to run towards him. “Something really weird is going on!” Tears of frustration and relief filled her eyes.
It was only then that something about his reaction struck her as strange. Normally, Hanako would’ve already been all over her, wouldn’t he have? He’d be floating near her, arms wrapped around her as though he were a second skin.
But —
Hanako hadn’t made a single move towards her. He simply stood there, staring at her, lips parted in what seemed to be disbelief.
Wasn’t he normally happy to see her?
His usual cheshire smile was gone, replaced with a look of pure horror. His large eyes seemed even wider, pupils constricted as his body trembled hard. “Yashiro,” he breathed, sounding as though the very action of speaking was a laborious effort. “Yashiro — I’m so sorry.”
An apology.
What was he apologizing for?
She laughed, unsure of herself. “Hey,” she said, taking another hesitant step towards him, as that feeling of wrongness in the pit of her stomach only mounted. Why was he looking at her like that? The expression of his face was difficult to place. His eyes seemed swollen, lips quivering. It was like he didn’t want to look at her. Was he feeling guilty? “What are you apologizing for?” She couldn’t remember. Had she complained to him about cleaning the toilets again? It wasn’t like him to be sorry over something like that, though.
She smiled, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hanako-kun.” She grabbed his hand, meaning to calm him. The moment that she does, however, she noticed that his hand felt different. It wasn’t cold. In fact, she could feel a warmth emanating from him. It was reminiscent of how his skin had felt in the picture world. Soft. Warm.
Strange.
“Hanako-kun -- I’m glad that I ran into you here,” and truly, she was. She could mull over the warmth of his skin later. Finally, things would begin to start making sense!
“I wanted to ask you what happened the other day?” she began slowly. “With the Amanojaku!”
No answer.
Why was he looking at her like that?
“Hanako-kun?”
He swallowed as though there was something thick trapped within his throat. “Yashiro,” from the moment that he spoke, he seemed to come back to himself. He was pale, shivering as he slowly lifted a hand to her cheek. He squeezed the hand that she was holding, before lacing their fingers together. “Yashiro,” he repeated her name, but it sounded like he was in pain.
He still hadn’t answered her.
Hanako leaned against her, moving so close that for a moment, she thought that he might kiss her. She grew warm, cheeks burning when he rested his forehead against her. His eyes squeeze closed. He felt as though he were actually alive. How was that possible? Hanako’s touch had always been cool, but his skin was so warm that Nene couldn't help but melt into it. As bemused as she was, it felt nice to be held like this by him. Like she belonged there -- in his arms. The school was quiet all around them, and for a moment, she wondered if time had stopped.
The romance novels that she read often described moments like this. It was the moment that magic became real, and the feelings of the two lovers became too overwhelming to be contained. Perhaps there would be a confession — an embrace or even a warm kiss. Nene felt swollen with excitement.
It felt — perfect.
Right.
“You need to move on,” he spoke suddenly, jolting her right out of her thoughts.
— And the spell had been broken.
“Move on?” She asked quietly. She didn’t understand what he meant. Move on from what?
His eyes averted, looking lower, towards her abdomen. His skin seemed to turn ashen before his eyes flickered back to hers. “You — you don’t feel that?” He asked quietly. His question makes her pause.
Feel what?
“Why aren’t you answering my questions?” It didn’t make any sense. This evasiveness was ridiculous even for Hanako, who always kept his secrets locked close to his heart. It was normal for him to use a question or some other means to distract her when he wanted to keep his lips sealed, but this was far too much. He kept on answering her questions with more questions. Really -- there had to be a limit to how much Hanako could keep from her!
His eyes flickered back down to her abdomen again.
He grit his teeth, untangling their fingers to her disappointment and bringing them to rest on her shoulders. “Look down,” said Hanako, choosing to be evasive once more. Still, his insistence that she look at herself made her hesitate. She didn’t want to. She wanted to fight him more -- to demand that he answer her questions, but from the look within his eyes, Nene could tell that this was serious. She was missing something important.
But what was that?
Nene could feel that harsh, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach returning. Come to think of it -- didn’t her belly hurt? There was a dull throb there, right beneath her ribs. It didn’t feel like a stomach ache. No, the pain was much sharper. It had been building since the moment that she woke up in front of the school. Finally ripping her eyes away from Hanako’s she looked down at herself.
-- And then she saw it.
A gaping hole, ripped ragged and bloody,was torn right through her. It was right beneath her ribs. Crimson blood stained her uniform. There was so much of it. The skirt of her uniform was entirely ruined, soaked through with the fluid. She could even feel the warm, sticky substance seeping into the fabric of her tights. “...What…?” she whispered. The pain dissipated, leaving only a numbness in its wake. And cold -- it was so cold. A part of her had been gouged out and she hadn’t even noticed. Not until now.
“Hanako-kun,” her voice shook. “Hanako-kun -- my stomach--”
She’d been stabbed.
She’d been stabbed —
She’d been stabbed.
“Yashiro!” Hanako’s voice brought her back, grounding her. He pulled her against him tightly, his body a solid anchor within the chaos that had begun to swirl inside of her. Her visage flickered, as though she were nothing more than a candle about to be snuffed out. “Yashiro! Stay focused! I know -- I know this can be confusing at first,” his fingers ran through her hair, brushing through the strands like he had done before when he had come to harass her during her English class before. “It sometimes takes awhile to get a sense of yourself again.” His grip on her was crushing, but she relished in the feeling of it. Hanako made sense, even if none of this did. “Focus on me, okay?”
She could do that.
Nene closed her eyes, breathed deeply. She filled lungs that no longer required air, and shook like a leaf in the autumn wind. The air felt crisp as she inhaled, just as it always had. Nothing felt any different. She could still feel all of her limbs. She had two hands, two legs, and two feet. She could feel Hanako as she clung to him, nails digging into the fabric of his old school uniform. “Hanako-kun,” she said when she finally trusted herself to speak. “What happened?”
Silence.
He didn’t answer -- not at first. No, he simply buried his face into her hair. Inhaling deeply, then he released a ragged breath that seemed to be ripped from his chest. When he pulled back, meeting her gaze, his eyes were set with a sort of weary, grim determination.
And she knew .
She knew without him even having to say it. Though, the words still knocked the wind out of her when they finally did come.
“You died, Yashiro.”
No -- dying hadn’t been dramatic. But... what had come after was.
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Days seemed to blend into one another over the next few weeks, each night dying into day again and again.
Rinse and repeat.
Nene was never quite sure if she was awake or not. She had read about narcolepsy for class once. She thought that what she was experiencing now was most similar to that. There were fleeting moments of consciousness. She would blink and awaken back at the school, before blinking again and finding herself back in a sea of darkness that was thicker than the blackest of nights.
When she was awake, Hanako was usually never far away.
He’d appear minutes after she did, a bone weary and hollow guilt etched into his eyes as he always encouraged the same thing over and over again.
“Pass on, Yashiro.”
She didn’t listen, of course.
-------------
Nene came to realize rather quickly that coming to terms with your own death was quite the shock. The awareness of one’s own demise didn’t come right away. No, your body did everything in its power to maintain that illusion of life. She still felt things, phantom sensations of what should be. She couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, but something within her brain (soul? She didn’t have a brain anymore -- that had died with her physical body) told her that the rays would brush against her skin like a sultry embrace, and so she perceived it as such. She didn’t have skin to feel the coolness of the wind sweeping over her, and yet, she shivered. Her chest burned when she held her breath, yearning for oxygen that she couldn’t breathe. Though, gradually --
Those sensations…
Started.
To.
Fade.
Her awareness was even more fleeting.
From the moment that she realized that she was dead, Nene had trouble maintaining her form. She would simply blink in and out of existence. Here one minute -- gone the next. She would often wake back up in the school -- by the entrance, in the practice garden, right in the middle of her old homeroom class. Masaki-sensei would be in the middle of a lesson. Aoi would be sitting in class, scribbling notes with a far off and misty look in her eye. She’d never see her, of course.
No one did.
Her desk had been outright removed from the class. An empty spot in the classroom was the only acknowledgement that she had once existed. Though, perhaps that wasn’t the only reminder. No one sat where her desk had once stood. When students walked past that spot, they would cast a sad, pitying glance towards it. She’d hear whispers when there was a lull in the lesson. They were always the same words. Whispers that were as loud as screams echoed throughout the entire school -- building to a crescendo that was impossible to ignore.
Poor Nene-chan.
It was always the same.
Did you hear how she died? She was found stabbed in the school courtyard! Isn’t that awful?
Poor Nene-chan, indeed.
“Insensitive, isn’t it?” A soft, yet almost dreary voice spoke to her. Nene blinked. She was in the school hallway now. How frustrating! She couldn’t seem to get a hold of herself. Her sense of self was off, just as Hanako had said. She was worried that she would disappear for good if she wasn’t careful. “The way that humans discuss the dead has always left something to be desired.” That voice sounded so familiar.
It gave Nene something to grasp. A familiar voice -- soft, distant, and feminine.
“Nanamine-senpai!” Nene found her voice, yelping out loud as she finally noticed the girl standing right in front of her. It was as though Nanamine-senpai had been out of focus, a blurry image in a camera that she had been unable to discern until that very moment. Her head just felt so foggy. Was she disappearing?
You are dead , a fact her mind was quick to remind herself of. You shouldn’t even still be here.
“You haven’t crossed over yet,” Nanamine-senpai observed. She leaned against the adjacent wall, hands folded neatly across her chest. She was as beautiful as always, resembling a painting more than a person -- a beautiful piece of art that had been handcrafted and placed into the real world. Perhaps that was why she seemed so doll-like, her movements perfectly precise, her voice like a distant dream. The sunlight filtering in through the windows from the hallway bathed her in a warm, honey-like hue. “Perhaps you should.”
“Hanako-kun….said the same thing…” Speaking was difficult. It was as though her tongue was laden with lead. It was difficult to remember how to form her words, like there were some kind of delay between her thoughts and her mouth. Then again, she didn’t have a real mouth anymore.
Dead.
She was dead.
Her insides shuddered, squirming at that thought. She could feel herself flicker again -- her consciousness fading to darkness before finding purchase in the school’s hallways once more. Sakura still stood there, watching her. “You should listen to him,” the elder girl advised. “Nothing good comes from remaining bound here.” Her tone became almost wistful. She turned slightly, glancing out of the nearby window, as a caged bird would stare longingly outside of the gaps in its cage.
“I wish that I had known that, before.”
Before? Before what? Nene wanted to ask what she meant by that, but the words never seemed to reach her lips.
The other girl didn’t elaborate on her meaning, either. Instead, she took her hand in hers, holding it in a similar manner to the way that she had back in the tea room Boundary. Imploring, asking for understanding. “Go, Yashiro-san.”
“Go where?” Nene rasped, her form trembling as her hand squeezed around Nanamine’s. “Where do I have to go?”
There was nowhere to go now. There was nothing to do. There was nothing to be . She was stuck, frozen in place from the moment that she had been stabbed. Nene had a whole list of things that she had wanted to do before she died. She’d wanted to get a boyfriend, get her first kiss, go on a date. Maybe one day she’d grow into a sexy older woman with men fawning all over her. One day she might’ve even gotten married!
Nene had wanted to stream Space Hamsters Strike Back on her laptop, curled up beside Hanako on the floor of his bathroom. She’d wanted to watch his eyes light up as he watched all of the modern special effects. Nene had heard that the effects made it feel like you were really in space while you were watching. She had downloaded the movie, and planned to bring her laptop with her the day after they had gone after the Amanojaku.
She wanted to see him get all excited about the stars, telling her all of the facts that he knew like the back of his hand. When he was like that, the mask of Hanako fell away until he was only Amane -- a boy who wanted to be an astronaut. The boy who wanted to go to the moon or to Scorpius. The boy whose life had been cut far too short.
Kind of like her.
A tight knot formed in her chest. Right where her heart would have been if she still had one. It felt as though her feet were cast in iron, given a weight that she hadn’t felt since she was alive.
“So, you’ve made your choice,” Nanamine-senpai murmured, watching her with hooded, secretive eyes.
Her choice? Nene clung to the sick feeling of sloshing acid that formed in the pit of her stomach. It was real. It anchored her in place -- kept her from disappearing, even as her consciousness began to slowly fade.
“Staying isn’t always the better option,” she informed her, dropping her hand. Her lips curled into a sad smile. “A wish cannot always be granted. Even if it is, it might just chain you in place. You can become imprisoned by that wish.”
Nene didn’t understand. How could a wish become a prison?
“Nanamine-senpai,” Nene asked quietly. “How do you know that?”
The older girl remained quiet, her eyes holding an answer that Nene didn’t want to acknowledge. Why do you think that I know, they questioned. Tsukasa-kun was a supernatural who only granted wishes to spirits , after all. How else had Nanamine-senpai been able to form a bond with him if she didn’t already intimately understand the danger of such wishes? Her wish had become the elder girl’s shackles.
Crimson eyes widened, understanding dawning within them. “Nanamine-senpai…. Are you…?”
“It doesn’t matter what I am, anymore,” Nanamine’s voice was clipped. She didn’t want to talk about that, then. “Every wish comes with a cost. Are you prepared to make such a sacrifice, Yashiro-san?”
Was she?
“You all keep saying that!” Her form flickered. Here and then not -- as though she had glitched out of reality. “You tell me it’s better to pass on! Then you say that it’s up to me to make a choice! Make up your minds already!” All of the frustration at the unfairness of the situation erupted.
Stupid supernaturals! They kept things from her, tried to force her to make decisions that she didn’t want to make, and all looked at her with that hopeless, resigned expression that she had come to loathe.
It was all too much.
She was still just too young. Before meeting Hanako her biggest concern had been her thick ankles and whether the boy she liked would return her feelings! Nene had been thrust into a world far more complex and layered than she had ever been able to fathom before. A world of wishes, apparitions and separate pockets of reality where all manner of creatures roamed, and all of her older concerns seemed paltry in comparison. Still, she had toed the line of the Near Shore and Far Shore for so long that she had come to love this dark world, filled to the brim with ancient legends and rules that were too difficult for her to comprehend.
It had always been her destiny to die.
Though, that didn’t mean that she needed to fade away, either.
Hanako . She thought of his sad, remorseful eyes. He had promised her a wish that he hadn’t been able to grant. He must be agonizing over that. He probably felt as though he had failed.
Did he always feel shackled by his wishes? Like Nanamine-senpai? Had her own wish added yet another chain to the restraints that bound him?
There were two paths laid before her, and while she knew what the easiest choice would be, she found herself yearning for the other more treacherous road that offered her nothing but overgrown thickets and branches that could easily snag her into place. It was a merciless path. Perhaps she’d even end up as bound as the rest of the apparitions who frequented this school.
Even so....
Hanako was at the end of this road, wasn’t he?
Nanamine-senpai smiled, a slight slither that seemed almost cut onto her face with knives. “Just remember this, Yashiro-san--” The girl leaned closer, resting her hand on her shoulder. She squeezed it, though Nene was unsure if the gesture was meant to be comforting or not.
“ You’re a spirit of the Far Shore now, Yashiro-san. That means if you stay long enough to manifest a wish…”
Nanamine-senpai didn’t even need to finish her sentence.
Nene knew.
“ He’ll come to grant it.”
Strangely enough -- that didn’t frighten her. At least, not completely.
-------------
And come, he did.
Nene wasn’t surprised to see Tsukasa when he finally sought her out. Her wish had already manifested, building itself in her heart until her entire spirit was consumed by it. It sang its song in every molecule of her form, making sure that even if she vanished, she was never gone for long. This time, she was on the roof of the old school building. She opened her eyes, and could see the sun shining down on her, even if she couldn’t feel its rays. The wind blew against her, causing her hair to blow across her face.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!” A loud, boisterous voice cried out. She recognized it immediately, flinching as her hands balled into fists. “Amane’s assistant died! You really died! I mean -- I knew that you would, but that’s a lot faster than I was expecting!” He laughed, floating in the air before flying above her, lowering himself so that his face was right in front of hers as he hung upside down. It was an action that reminded her almost too cruelly of Hanako. The boy had his face, after all, even if that was where the similarities ended.
He stared down at the wound that had yet to repair itself in her chest. “Hey! Someone stabbed you! Squish! ” He reached for her, mimicking the stabbing motion with his hand. She grimaced, but she took a step away from him, eyes narrowed as she covered the wound with one of her hands. “Hey, when you got stabbed, did it make that sound? It kind of sounds like that, right?”
She didn’t want to think about that -- or the sound of it.
“Tsukasa-kun…” Nene said hesitantly, watching him with wary eyes.
“That must’ve broken Amane’s heart,” he giggled, eyes closed and grinning wide. He had a smile that was like a wild animal, all teeth -- a warning. “Did he make a good face?” She didn’t like it when he spoke like this, eyes darker than the obsidian. “I wish I could’ve seen that!”
She didn’t answer his question, her mind flashing back to Hanako’s face as she had died. No -- it hadn’t been a good face, at all. She bit into her lip -- hard. “You’re here for a reason, aren’t you, Tsukasa-kun?” She was sure that if she was still alive, she would’ve ran from him. She would’ve cowered away and called for Hanako, probably. All of those fears seemed so far away now, like a distant memory. Tsukasa would do as he pleased, whether it was favorable for her or not.
Her words seem to snap him back to attention. “Yes! Your heart called me. You have a wish, don’t you?” He had such large eyes -- round and wide until they thinned, pupils zeroing in on her. Malicious curiosity shone within them, as though he were looking right through her. It was as though he were peering into her soul. She forced herself not to cower from him even if there was still a part of her that wanted to run and cry. “I do,” she answered, voice trembling.
Well, dead or not -- she couldn’t change her crybaby ways completely.
“You know what it is already, don’t you?” Nene’s hands clenched around the hem of her skirt.
“I do,” he sang as koku-jodai danced around him. The orbs were just as excitable as he was. “You want to stay with Amane, right ? You want to be with him from the bottom of your heart!”
His smile softened, startling her as he moved closer, invading her space. She wasn’t able to move away quickly enough as he grabbed both of her hands, entwining their fingers the same way that Hanako had done back when he had first granted her wish. “You want to make him happy.” She didn’t expect him to look like that. He almost seemed like his twin at that point -- kind and gentle, though those words were not what she would’ve ever chosen to describe Tsukasa.
Why was he behaving this way? She had almost expected to be run through or hurt in some way. Though, she remembered even he had stopped himself from hurting her at one point. You’re not supposed to hurt girls . Had Hanako told him that?
She nodded, “Y-Yes.” She wished she could get her treacherous voice under control.
“Are you scared?” he asked cheekily, grinning as he stuck his tongue out at her. “I won’t hurt you. I’m here to grant your wish. And well… I like your wish.”
That made her pause. He… liked her wish?
“What--?”
“We both want Amane to be happy.” He flew above her, koku-jodai practically vibrating as they circled him, glowing darkly as his power gathered. His response only served to further confuse her. He wanted Hanako to be happy? If that was the case, then why did he torment his brother? He had called them arch-enemies before. Rivals -- and yet, it seemed as though Tsukasa-kun genuinely wanted to help her. Hanako's eyes were always so sad and regretful whenever he saw him. A question formed in her throat, scratching at her vocal chords. “Do you really?”
“Yeah!” He stretched his arms out wide, as though he were going to fall to the ground and make a snow angel. “He and I are playing a game, but that’s not really what I’m here to talk about, is it?” He tapped his lip with his index finger, smirking as sharp fangs bared themselves.
She would get no more answers out of him.
A game.
She wasn’t sure what kind of game he was playing, but Nene was certain that neither Hanako nor the other spirits who got drawn into the web that he cast wanted to be a part of it. You’re confusing, Tsukasa-kun , she thought sadly, lips drawing into a deep frown. She wondered if anyone truly understood the boy in front of her. The members of his little broadcasting group didn’t seem to, all drawn together by the wishes that they had made to him, with the exception of Natsuhiko-senpai. She wasn’t sure why he was there, to be honest. Had Hanako understood him at some point?
Would she ever really know?
“Your price has already manifested. I’ve granted you an audience, so be sure not to be boring and disappoint me!”
An audience?! With whom?
She didn’t get the chance to ask him what he meant before the floor opened up underneath her.
“T-Tsukasa-kun!” she cried out, flailing out, trying to grab onto something to no avail.
“Bye-Bye!” He waved at her, and then --
Lights out.
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The next time Nene awakened, she was surrounded by a pitch black void.
There was nothing in this abyss -- nothing but emptiness and vast space. There was nothing to feel here, nothing to think; nothing but everlasting and far stretching darkness as distant as the eye could see. She wondered if this was the true afterlife. Was this where she was supposed to be? Was she only clinging to her worldly desires, tethering herself to the Near Shore when all that actually awaited her was an endless abyss?
Her final resting place.
It was almost peaceful. If she let herself, she could drift off into an endless, calm slumber. There would be no more pain. No more suffering. No more agonizing about her life, cut far too short. She hadn’t even had her first kiss. How cruel was that? Sixteen years old and deader than a doornail. Sleeping was much too tempting.. She could feel the desire tugging at her chest. It’d be so easy to simply close her eyes and drift off into nothingness. It’d be so easy. So peaceful. Right. This was fate, wasn’t it?
Her eyes were so heavy.
Maybe she could take just a little nap?
She could think about it more later.
“It’s kind of nostalgic -- like having a friend again.”
Nene’s eyes snapped open almost as suddenly as they had started to drift closed, suddenly alert. No. She couldn’t leave -- not yet. Not when Hanako was still tethered to the third floor girl’s bathroom of the old school building. She couldn’t believe that she had almost forgotten about him! No, she couldn’t fade away. Not while Hanako’s eyes still held that haunted, tired look as though he had seen more lifetimes than she could count. He was dead -- and yet, he couldn’t rest.
If he couldn’t rest, then neither should she.
Hanako wanted a friend. Hanako was lonely -- bound to his duty, to a penance that seemed far too great to burden a fourteen year old boy with. He’s a murderer, she reminded herself. That was true. Hanako had killed, but as she thought back to the way that he had looked on the floor of that empty classroom, all covered in bruises and bloody marks, bandages covering older wounds that had no business marring his skin, she couldn’t find it within herself to blame him. He had never told her why he had killed his brother, nor had he ever told her what had happened to him all those years ago.
There just hadn’t been enough time.
“Pass on, Yashiro.”
No, she couldn’t rest yet.
Hanako’s words only served to piss her off. He was always talking like that, making it seem as though all the dead had to look forward to was annihilation. He was a slave to rules and order -- what should be . There was still so much to do! Hanako was still at Kanome, after all. If he was there, then she would have no choice but to stay as well. She was his assistant and his friend. What would he do without her? He had urged her to move on, but that was just him being his normal, self-sacrificing self. Of course he’d say that. He was determined to make himself miserable, but Nene would be damned if she let that continue.
She wouldn’t.
Hanako needed to be protected, too!
That thought filled her like air, grounding her -- providing her with an alertness that kept her steady even in the recesses of this abyss.
Poor little lost spirit. Why do you scoff at death?
Nene could hear a voice in that abyss. It was a whisper, something that slid gently against the edges of her consciousness. It beckoned, called to her sweetly as she imagined a lover would. It was insistent, and yet too soft for her to discern its words until it slowly became more clear and present. That was, at least until the voice slowly became clear and present. It filled the space with an energy that rocked her to her core. It demanded attention now, as though it had grown tired of being ignored. She wasn’t alone here, and yet whatever she shared this space with was just out of her grasp. Nene grasped at air that wasn’t there, reaching -- searching for that voice.
Hear me, Spirit. I am here with you.
“I’m not alone?” Nene asked as she finally found her voice. There was an echo when she spoke, one that seemed to vibrate throughout the dark abyss, filling each of the spaces as it reverberated again and again. “Who are you?”
There was a rumble in the darkness, something deep and warm -- like laughter.
That is the question, isn’t it? Funny, how those who come here never seem to know the answer to that question.
Was the voice talking in riddles? Nene had never been very good at solving those. She wasn’t sure who this person was -- but who did you talk to when you finally died? The answer hit her suddenly, and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it right away. “Are you God?”
The rumble was back, louder this time, and it shook her as it reverberated through her like ripples of a raging river. Was it… amused by her?
Some have called me that. That seems to be the only thing humans can come up with, at least. I’m not God -- or anything of the sort.
She didn’t understand. If this voice wasn’t God, then what was it? She panicked for a moment, flailing out into the void wildly out in fear. If not God -- then was it a demon?! She didn’t voice that thought, but it seemed to recognize her fear, regardless. The laughter is deep and echoing.
I am from this land. You died on my land, and so you are tied here. Your soul refuses to pass on.
That much was true. She still had things that she needed to do, after all. If Hanako was still at Kamome, then she needed to be there, too. She was sure of it, even more sure than she had been when Hanako had tried to lock her away in the picture perfect world. She hadn’t belonged there. Even with the news of her impending death, she wanted to live with him in the real world. That wish hadn’t changed.
You are a funny human. I’m quite curious -- who are you?
Nene sputtered, “Me?”
Yes, you. You have yet to fade away. You have yet to accept death. You even solicited the help of that apparition to appear here. Why is that?
Why couldn’t she accept death?
She knew the answer to that question immediately.
“My name is Yashiro Nene.” Her voice was like steel as she spoke, steadier than it had ever been. “ I have someone that I can’t leave behind,” she answered firmly.
The void pulsed . She could hear a subtle sound, like the beating of a heart that only increased in volume until her ears rang from it.
You are a lucky one, little spirit. Your fate has been tied to that of another. It is a bond that transcends even death.
A bond that transcended death? She had heard that before, hadn’t she?
I’ve heard your wish, spirit -- Don’t come to regret it.
-- And then, a star burst into a kaleidoscope of colors before her eyes, illuminating the darkness.
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“Hey, have you heard this rumor? There’s a mermaid that lives in the outdoor pool --”
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