Work Text:
Nene’s head hung as she mopped the bathroom floor. After everything that had happened in No.6’s boundary, life went back to normal.
Or as normal as it possibly could.
It is known as taboo, being attracted to someone not from this world. But even so, if you fall for them, you can’t help it.
Sumire’s words were like a broken record on repeat in her mind, and all Nene could do was moan to herself about the mess she was in—a mess that not even this mop could clean. The kind of mess that had a name, and its name was Hanako.
The mere thought of him made her stomach churn in ways she never felt before, not even with Minamoto-senpai. It was like a mixture of excitement and dread—that left her sweating with anticipation whilst fighting the urge to puke. But nonetheless, she stared helplessly at the bathroom door, waiting for Hanako to appear so she could do exactly what she came here to do.
She sighed, and leaned against the sink. Why isn’t he here yet—
“Hey, Yashiro!”
Her eyes popped wide open—and there stood Hanako—face so close to hers that all she saw were his huge moon-like eyes.
And she screamed.
He snickered, earning a scowl from her. But it didn’t seem to phase him as he said, “You’re here early.”
Once Nene’s heart settled as best as it could, she swallowed thickly, her fingers clammed up as she squeezed the mop’s handle. “Class let out early, so I thought I would come here and…” she trailed off, her face burned, and she turned sharply. She set the mop down against the windowsill. And blinked at the blinding sunset as she splayed her hands on the ledge, trying to get a hold of herself. She was losing nerve—fast.
“The sunset looks pretty,” he mused, resting his hand a mere inch from her own. Was he as aware of how close their hands were? Did he do that on purpose? Her pulse spiked and she tried to toss it off as nothing—she really did, but…
“Yeah, it is,” she said, her voice was so low, she wondered if she’d had spoken at all. And yet, she couldn’t focus on the brilliant orange and pink hues of sunset—she could only focus on Hanako’s hand. Sitting right next to hers. And the heat radiating between their hands, and their arms, and their bodies. Everything felt hot. And she wondered if Hanako thought so, too.
She couldn’t help but notice how much larger his hand was compared to her own—and without thinking, she grabbed it—
“Whoa—Yashiro?” He stared blankly, but didn’t make any move to pull his hand back, and she swore his cheeks turned a little bit red. Or perhaps it was just the light playing tricks on her.
But, for some reason, Nene had this strange feeling that Hanako would let her do anything she wanted to him, and that sent an electric thrill through her veins.
She rested her hand against his palm, his fingers were so much longer and blockier than her own. And as though she were in a trance, she absently traced his hand from the tips of his fingers to the edge of his palm, stopping right at the cuff of his uniform. And she wasn’t positive, but she thought she felt him shiver.
And she, too, shivered. Because there was no denying it—how he made her feel—and how all it takes is for those big, moonlit eyes to soften when he looks at her—and suddenly her heart is in frenzy.
Or how she spends her weekends with her heart-aching and anxiously awaiting to see him again.
Because she was so hopelessly in love with Hanako.
It was like what Sumire had said, the words that still echoed in her mind: But even so, if you fall for them, you can’t help it.
And it wasn’t until he saved her from being sacrificed, the very moment she needed him most—and he was there—that a waterfall of emotions tumbled through her—that Hanako is always there for her. No matter what.
And when they stood next to each other like this—everything was awareness. Like how surprisingly soft his palm was, or the fact that he still hadn’t pulled his hand back. And they were standing so close—close enough Nene was positive the brim of his hat would bump against her forehead if she looked up.
But even so, if you fall for them, you can’t help it.
Sumire’s words again rang in her ears. And Nene dropped his hand. Her stomach lurched at what she was about to do. Encouraging her and warning her all at the same time.
She whirled fast, as though she were about to be sick and gripped the windowsill ledge as if it could give her the support she needs. “Hanako-kun…” She looked over at him. And with a deep breath, she said, “I like you, I really like you—”
He took a step back, his amber eyes went wide and his jaw fell slightly agape. His cheeks slowly swirled from blush pink to a brilliant red. “Yashiro…”
“I know it’s taboo and I know that you’re dead, but—“
“Stop.” His voice was as sharp and as curt as his knife.
“Stop?” She frowned.
In the setting sun, he looked almost sickly pale and transparent as though her confession disgusted him to the core.
“Stop.” His voice a desperate plead.
A sinking feeling came upon her—a type of gut wrenching pain that told her she made a big mistake. Her prickled with tears, but she willed them back.
“I’m a supernatural,” he said, tugging his hat over his eyes, whilst he grimaced as if the sight of Nene pained him.
Was she that pitiful to look at?
“I don’t care!” There was a sense of urgency in her voice. Hoping it could convey how she felt. “I don’t care if you’re not human.”
Hanako jolted, but he finally looked her in the eyes. They were hauntingly wide and vacant, and he smiled—the type of smile that sent a chills down her spine. “You really think it’s possible for me to fall for a human?”
“Hanako-kun…” Nene’s bottom lip quivered. “I thought—”
He leaned in close, his eyes softened as he cupped her cheek, and against her better judgment, she melted into his touch. “It would be pretty bad for business for Hanako-san of the Toilet if I fell in love with my clients.”
And whatever spell Nene had been under snapped just like that. “What?” She pulled back.
Hanako’s hand was still in the air, caressing where she’d just been, and then he dropped it like it was nothing. Like he didn’t care that his words were like a slap in the face.
And how could he look so nonchalant? Was he really standing here breaking her heart—acting as though she means nothing to him?
“Hanako-kun,” she said, staring down at her balled up, trembling hands. She figured she should have felt like that time when her senpai rejected her; heartbroken and mortified. But this was different. It was like blinding fury boiled inside, and she yanked him by the collar of his uniform. “You stupid idiot!”
“EH?” He gasped and she throttled him.
“What about the time you asked me out on a date in the fake world?”
“That was—”
“Or all those times when you asked if I liked you?”
“Well, you see—”
“And when you stopped Akane-kun from kissing me!”
“Because—“
“And splashing me with water when I talked about a study camp romance—”
“It’s to—”
“AND YOU RUINED MY WEDDING TO NO.6!”
“YOU WERE BEING SACRIFICED!” He stared at her, his cheeks blazed red, and she could see beads of sweat on his forehead.
“Hanako-kun,” she said, tilting her head up, her words firm, “you’re a terrible liar.”
And she pulled him by his uniform flush against her, and she kissed him.
Hanako gasped against her lips, and his body went rigid. And for a horrifying moment, Nene wondered if she’d made yet another huge mistake. But slowly and tentatively, his hands went to her shoulders, his fingers as light as feathers against the soft material of her uniform. And with just the slightest of pressure, and with the gentleness of air, he kissed her back.
And that was her entire undoing.
Her arms twirled around his neck like a vine, and she kissed him with all of her might. The words she tried to say—that he wouldn’t let her say. She would never accept this—accept him lying to her face. Not when he asked her out when they were in the fake world together—not when he stopped Akane from kissing—and not from the way he protected her from the bugs in the pit—and especially not after how upset he got when she denied he was her crush to Aoi.
And he kissed her back with such an equal force—that Nene knew. Knew how he felt about her. And he pulled her closer than before, his hands running up and down her back, creating tingles and sparks with each touch. And while his body doesn’t have heat, his lips were like fire—igniting a match inside her, and liquid embers burned through her veins that made her kiss harder and more desperate. It was like everything between them had built up to this very moment. All the tension, all the soft looks, and all mutual pining.
And she never wanted it to stop, and as she moaned against his lips—she felt him swallow, and his body tremble—and he pulled back, panting heavily.
He leaned his head against the crook of her neck. His chest heaved along with hers. And when he looked up, his face was such a dark red, Nene was certain she mirrored him.
“Yashiro, the truth is…” he said, pulling his hat off and running his fingers through his hair, “when it comes to you, I don’t know what to do.”
“Hanako-kun…”
“But I…uh…um…” He looked away, and paused. Every second that ticked by felt like another eternity. He met her eyes again, hooded and unreadable, but it made Nene’s breath catch. “I like you, too.”
She inhaled sharply. Her own eyes grew wide. But Hanako wasn’t done.
“I never…had a girlfriend…before,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, either,” she confessed back.
And they shyly interlocked their hands—but it was short-lived because Kou walked in at that very moment, and Hanako and Nene jumped apart.
“Ugh,” Kou groaned, dropping his school bag with a soft thud. “It’s been a long day. Oi, you better not be overworking Senpai, Hanako!”
“Of course not,” Hanako said with ease. But his hand knocked into her’s before he floated off to annoy Kou.
And as Nene’s hammering heart slowed, she smiled because suddenly everything felt lighter and brighter.
The sunset truly looked pretty.