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Hanako was bored. Very bored. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree he was perched in—within Yashiro’s practice garden. There was just something about this ridiculous garden, where his assistant grew vegetables in that he found comforting.
Maybe it was because it was so Yashiro.
The branch jostled as he pulled out his knife. He tossed it up and down, always catching it by the handle, but he’d be lying if the thought of catching it by its blade didn’t give him a thrill.
Below him, there was movement. He stilled, catching the knife one last time by the handle. A girl crept into the garden. Her hair looked so silver through the moonless night, almost as if it were made of starlight. But he’d recognize this person anywhere, from her slim frame to her thick ankles.
Yashiro.
What is she doing outside of the school dance? Hanako hadn’t been in the mood to appear at the dance—to see Yashiro and the kid together. He knew the kid only asked Yashiro because he didn’t have a date, but it left Hanako with a bitter poison that flowed through his dead veins.
Not going to the dance left Hanako with a different feeling; a strange pang in his heart over not seeing Yashiro dressed up. But he had no right to feel this way. He had no right to love Yashiro the way he did.
Because he was dead.
Because he is a murderer.
He smiled to himself, toying with the tip of his blade. He will always be a murderer.
Yashiro now stood in front of the school’s newly constructed fountain. The faerie lights of the fountain illuminated her hair, and her green strands faintly glimmered. Her pale blue dress billowed in the wind, her hair waving along with it. And Hanako’s breath caught. She looked like a faerie princess. He glanced down at his knife, and his abnormally big eyes stared disdainfully back at him—mocking him.
He didn’t deserve her.
And he never would.
She leaned over the fountain, placed her tiny hands on the ledge, and gazed into the water. Hanako blinked blankly. Was she throwing a coin in for good luck? he wondered. It wouldn’t surprise him; Yashiro was the dreamer type—probably wishing for a princely boy to come and kiss her.
Yashiro twirled her long hair around her finger. It was longer now than when Hanako had first met her, he mentally noted. She kicked off her heels, and she grabbed onto the fountain’s ledge once more, and heaved herself up.
“What is she doing?” His jaw fell. She wasn’t about to—
Splash.
“No way!” Hanako was on the edge of his seat, literally—on the branch’s thin end.
She held up her dress up as if that would keep it from getting wet, while he could see the back end of the gown had very well dipped into the water.
Was she drunk?
From his tree branch, he leaped to the top of the fountain. He could see her better now. The curve of her lips as she muttered something he couldn’t quite hear. She used the hand not holding the dress up to scoop up the coins at the bottom. She groaned and tossed them back in, angrily. Scales covered her arms, and parts of her face that the water must have touched.
Definitely drunk, he noted to himself.
“What are you doing, Yashiro?”
She screamed and slipped backward—trying to catch herself, flailing her arms all about, but it failed—and she went under. Hanako stared in awe as she resurfaced, spitting out water. Her hair stuck to her scaly face, and her dress was soaked completely through, clinging to her in ways that made Hanako blush.
That did not just happen—Hanako fell over, roaring with laughter.
~
~
“Hanako-kun!” Nene’s heart was erratic. His laughter only escalated her mortification. Hanako had scared her half to death. She didn’t think anyone was around, and the shame slowly sunk in. He must think her to be a total lunatic. And had he been sitting on top of the statue the entire time? She was losing her mind.
Hanako cocked his head, a smile brewing on his lips. “Are you drunk, Yashiro?”
“No!” Her voice went high, and so did his eyebrows. He clearly did not believe her. She resigned to tell him, with what little dignity she had left, what she was looking for.
“Honest. I’m not drunk. I’m trying to find this coin Aoi gave me for good luck.” Nene wasn’t about to share what that luck was for—in hopes of getting a boyfriend. “But this is the third time I’ve lost it! And in a fountain of all places! I’m convinced it’s bad luck.” She peered back into the lowly lit water. So. Many. Coins. Her mind reeled. She’d lost it earlier that day, before the dance, but she knew she couldn’t go look for it—not without risking her scales being seen by fellow classmates. But Aoi had asked for it back, and Nene was screwed.
“Totally drunk,” Hanako said, and Nene stiffened because his voice came from beside her, no longer above. She turned slowly and saw him squatting on the edge of the fountain from right behind, peering into the clear water. Her heart murmured, but only because of embarrassment, she told herself.
“So a needle in a haystack. What does it look like?” His moon-like eyes eerily glowed like a jack-o'-lantern from the fountain’s light. “This unlucky coin?” He rolled his sleeve up, getting ready to search the water with her.
She averted her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm up. Shyly, she tugged on the damp ends of her hair. “Well, it’s round and tiny. And gold-colored, with a hole in its center.”
“Like this?”
Nene whirled so fast, she slipped again—but she flapped her arms out like a duck, and regained her footing.
She looked at Hanako’s hand, and there in his dry hand was the coin. “Where did you…?”
“It was right here on the ledge.” He smiled, his seal crinkling, very pleased with himself.
Nene sputtered, feeling more foolish by the minute. She sighed, shaking her head. Of course, Hanako would find it so easily. She looked back up at him, and smiled. “Thanks, Hanako-kun! You’re a lifesaver!”
He blinked, and his eyes and mouth rounded, and Nene could have sworn his cheeks turned a pale pink. His eyes softened, and his mouth eased into a lazy smile. Her stomach twisted, and she found it increasingly difficult to look at him.
“It was nothing, Drunk Girl.”
“I’m not drunk!” she insisted, but the smile on his face, and the way he was looking at her—it left her unnerved. She gulped. Why was she feeling like this?
He stretched out his hand with the coin at its center. She grabbed it with water-wrinkled, scaly hands, and her face felt hot despite the chill from the water the moment she touched his palm.
Hanako stood up tall on the fountain’s ledge, and held out his hand to help Nene out, but her dress was too waterlogged, and in a split second, she fisted his uniform just to grab onto anything to keep herself on her feet.
But Hanako hadn’t been expecting it and fell with her. Somehow she wound up sprawled on top of Hanako. His hat floated off somewhere, and his hair was dark as ink as water poured on them from the distasteful fish statue.
Their faces were so close, Nene’s breath halted, and Hanako’s throat bobbed up and down. And they were so soaked, their clothes stuck to them like a second skin. She could feel his body flushed against hers, the rapid beats of his heart, matching the tempo of her own. It made her stomach twist in the weirdest of ways.
“Yashiro?” His face and ears turned red, but his eyes were so dark, so hooded, so captivating. She felt this urge to lean in close, to trace every part of his face, to touch his lips—
“Sorry!” Nene squeaked, sitting up quickly, wishing the humiliation would end. Why did she have to think like that? Now her entire body burned in ways she never expected.
And as Hanako sat up, his uniform outlined his slim, yet muscular frame, and still no hat.
She sucked in a breath.
The feeling was back.
And it was strong.
Like a ball of electricity, buzzing in her stomach, that made each breath feel like it’s last.
And then he looked at her, the slant of a smile on his lips, and Nene knew she was doomed.
~
~
“Hey, Mitsuba,” said Kou, noticing the ghostly boy watching the dance from the far corner where no one could see him. No one but Kou, that is. “Did you happen to see where Senpai disappeared to?”
“Actually, I did.” Mitsuba pointed towards the exit. “I saw Radish-senpai in one of the mirrors going outside.”
“Odd,” Kou mused. He headed towards the door with Mitsuba following closely. A summer breeze ruffled his hair and suit as he searched the courtyard.
Kou stopped short, and Mitsuba banged into him. “Ow! Stupid Hella Lame Safety Traffic Earring!”
“Sorry,” Kou said, distracted. He could see Senpai was in the fountain with Hanako, the two of them were laughing and splashing each other, completely letting loose, looking free in a way Kou had only seen when she was with Hanako.
“Why are they playing in the fountain?” Mitsuba asked.
“Who knows,” Kou said, smiling to himself. “They look happy, don’t they?”
“They look weird…”
~
~
Nene couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun as she and Hanako splashed each other with fountain water. Her dress was so waterlogged it hugged her body in ways she wasn’t used to—so unlike her loose school uniform. It was also semi-transparent, but she couldn't find it in her to care for some reason. She was just…happy. To let loose and forget about her lifespan, and Hanako helped her give in to that rush.
He leaned against the fountain’s wall, arms crossed over his chest, and said, “It’s nice seeing you like this.”
Nene’s heart hammered. When was the last time she felt like this? Butterflies and heart murmurs. And heat. So much heat.
Maybe it was the reflection of the water, but Hanako’s amber eyes shone so brightly, she was utterly mesmerized. Or maybe there was something hypnotic in the summer air? Or perhaps she was drunk off something as Hanako kept insisting. But having him so close…The way his eyes looked so intently and intensely at her…
Nene leaned over and kissed him.
It was wet and tasted like metal.
It was perfect.
He gasped against her mouth, and Nene pulled back. Realization stabbed her like Hanako’s knife brick.
“H-Hanako-kun, I shouldn’t have—” She pulled herself up. She had to get out of this fountain—right now. She grabbed onto the fountain’s rim.
“Ya-Yashiro!” Hanako said. “Wait!”
And she did. Her body froze, almost catatonic. Each second between each heartbeat felt like a million years.
She could feel the chill of Hanako directly behind her.
She turned slowly, and he grabbed her hand, and felt something round press against her palm.
“You forgot your cursed coin.”
His bare hand held hers with the coin burned between them. Nene forgot how to breathe—how to function. Everything burned despite being in a fountain.
Everything part of her burned for Hanako.
She squeezed his hand, allowing the coin to imprint against them, and not at all ready to let go of him. And it seemed as though Hanako felt the same.
And for the first time that night, she thought maybe…just maybe the coin wasn’t cursed after all.
Fin~