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”I’ll be that safe time for you.”
And Jane believes her. Innocent, helpless Jane believes Nanno with all her pretty heart. She wraps her soft hands around the branch extended to her and holds on for dear life.
Nanno, for the most part, is everything she had said she would be. Save for the few times she disappears off the face of the earth without a trace for days at a time, Jane finds that she’s always there. Nanno’s always there being her reprieve from a life of exploitation by the people who were supposed to care about her. They don’t. Mother and father are nothing but her managers and her company, eager to squeeze every last drop of cash out of their seemingly unlimited, teenaged bank account. It’s been a while since she stopped seeing them as her parents and started regarding them as two strangers she has to work for against her will.
Jane finds it weird, at first- the thought of falling for Nanno. It pops into her head on an unsuspecting school night, right as she’s easily drifting off to sleep. As soon as it graces her mind, though, Jane spends the seven precious hours she has to rest wide awake. She thinks about Nanno, about her unreadable face, her devious smirks, and her rare, sweet smiles. She thinks about the mysterious air Nanno has to her, the almost-coldness that surrounds her very being. The temperature of her presence is just the tiniest bit lower than anyone else’s, but Jane doesn’t reckon anyone else realises.
After all, Nanno really only follows her around- when they’re in school, at least.
Before she knows it, the sun is rising on a sleepless, slightly mortified Jane.
Feelings for Nanno, that’s…
Thoughts of Nanno follow Jane all the way to school. She smiles privately in the back seat of her parents’ Mercedes Benz; even when she isn’t right there with her, Nanno still manages to give Jane a place to go in her head where no one can bother her.
That’s not entirely surprising.
Nanno stands waiting for Jane at the entrance with a smile that’s perhaps a little devilish, but sweet enough to make her heart pound in her chest like a drum. The violence of Jane’s own pulse startles her into a nervous giggle as she approaches the taller girl. It’s only as she gets closer that she notices the way Nanno’s gaze goes over her shoulder. She glances back to follow it, trained intensely on the retreating car she had just arrived in.
It feels adequately unnerving to not be on the receiving end of Nanno's stare, Jane decides, as her parents drive off with eyes as black as the void watching them go. Jane's thoughts go astray as the white car fades into traffic and insignificance. She isn’t watching where she’s going, and loses her footing, stumbling forward on her last step up to Nanno.
With a soft yelp, Jane shuts her eyes tight as she falls. Only, it isn't quite as painful when she's caught in Nanno's long arms, each one wrapped securely around her torso. Nanno holds her tight until she's steady on her feet and blushing a pretty shade of pink. Not painful, but a little embarrassing. Jane tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, still looking down at her feet to psyche herself up to face Nanno. The latter's hands linger by her waist, but she says nothing. Nanno is always so patient with her. It's that thought that has Jane looking up at her with a smile she hopes portrays how thankful she is for Nanno.
"Sorry," she mutters, shy and a little sheepish.
Nanno tilts her head, one corner of her mouth upturned in the slightest. Jane watches her reach behind her back and produce a red bean bun, seemingly out of nothing. Nanno hands it to her.
"You didn't get to eat breakfast at home, did you?" Nanno asks, though she seems to know the answer. "Here, eat up."
Jane weakly reaches for the bun packed in a plastic bag, thanking Nanno with a nod. Nanno just smiles and offers the girl her arm. The gesture is gentlemanly and playful. Jane can’t resist holding onto the latter’s lean bicep as they head into the building.
People stare. They always do. Jane no longer remembers the school days she had once lived, when she wasn’t the center of attention. Boys and girls alike try to get her attention by asking for autographs, pictures, or simply calling her name with nothing to say. Guilt festers in Jane’s bones as she forces every smile and greeting, her grip on Nanno’s arm tightening in the slightest. No one bothers Nanno; it’s as if she isn’t even there to them. Jane doesn’t know what she would do without the silent, but tangible presence by her side, grounding her when she feels seconds from exploding.
Not everyone is a fan of Jane’s. In typical, entitled highschool kid fashion, they’re not afraid to make it known. Jane narrowly misses the raw egg now splattered on the floor, only because Nanno had tugged her back in time. She stares in shock at her shoes and what could have been all over her uniform by now, before reluctantly meeting the gaze of her attacker. The girl is a mean one. Jane recognises her face, but doesn’t remember her name.
“You slut,” spits the girl.
The harshness of her tone is enough to make Jane flinch, squeezing harder on Nanno’s arm. She’s been a public figure for more than a year now, but still hasn’t found a way to deal with the bad kind of attention she gets.
“My boyfriend left me for you,” the unnamed evil continues, holding another egg in her hand, “I know you fucked him while we were dating. You’re a fake, sick, slut.”
In moments like these, it’s hard to identify what exactly makes tears prick at Jane’s eyes. Is it how outrageous the rumour sounds, how untrue it is? Is it the girl’s tone, so painfully venomous as it pierces Jane right in her soft, tender heart? It is the vulgarity of the insult that she can’t seem to handle? Jane blinks away the tears forming in her eyes, burning and salty. Her throat closes up. She doesn’t know what to do, what to say.
The second egg goes flying, but Nanno is faster. Jane watches it crack against Nanno’s forearm, making a mess on its way to the floor as it’s knocked away from them. Not a drop lands on her uniform. She holds onto the latter, stepping even closer to her, when their opponent lets out a raging expletive.
But Nanno… she just laughs.
She laughs, and laughs, and laughs like a lovely psychopath. Jane doesn’t know whether or not she wants to join her, or cry even more. Nanno quietens just as quickly as she had started. Everything about her seems strangely unnatural at times, but even then, she’s never once harmed Jane.
“You think that’s why your boyfriend left you?” Nanno asks, feigning innocence with a childish hum. “But there are a hundred other reasons why he would leave a girl like you. I mean… who wouldn’t?”
Jane doesn’t hear anything that comes next. She stares in awe at the side of Nanno’s face, eyes still filled with unshed tears. That signature smirk of hers is back on her lips, surely driving Jane’s bully insane. Nanno turns to look at Jane for a moment, like she’s checking to see if she’s still there, before turning back to the girl who made her cry. Jane’s heart pounds. Her fingers go numb wrapped around Nanno’s arm.
She realises, in a startling moment of clarity, that she doesn’t ever want to let go of her.
Nanno lets out a dramatically loud sigh. “You know, you shouldn’t blame others for your own shortcomings. It’s your problem if you can’t compete,” she muses airily, a contrast to the heavy insult in her words. “Jane didn’t ask to be better than you in every way. She just is.”
Jane freezes on her feet. There’s something overwhelming about hearing something like that coming out of Nanno’s mouth, something overwhelming about everything about Nanno in that very moment. She’s startled out of her thoughts by a soft tug from Nanno’s arm, the one she’s been death-gripping. She blinks up at Nanno, not knowing what to say. The latter only smiles. It’s a small expression, a real one. A real, rare smile- the kind Jane had been up all night thinking about.
“Let’s go,” Nanno speaks softly, just for Jane to hear.
Nanno and Jane are halfway to the restroom when the bell for first period blares loudly throughout the school. For a moment, Jane panics. She’s never been one to miss classes before, what with all the eyes always on her. But Nanno pretends she didn’t even hear it, and she’s so confident, and Jane simply calms down again.
At the sinks, Nanno washes slimy, raw egg whites off of her arm. Jane watches quietly from the side, fiddling with the wrapper of the red bean bun she had completely squished in one hand without realising it.
“I’m sorry,” she finally says, soft enough to be drowned out by the sound of running water.
But Nanno hears her, of course. The faucet is turned off, casting them in immediate silence. Nanno rips off a paper towel from the dispenser and dabs at her arm and hands. She crumples it and tosses it in the trash before finally turning to face Jane.
“For what?”
Jane looks at her feet. The tiles beneath them are a faded blue. “For causing you so much trouble. It’s… it’s a hassle to be around me.”
Nanno breathes a soft chuckle through her nose. Her shoes step into Jane’s view. Slender fingers cup the side of her face, urging her to look up from the floor. Jane meets Nanno’s eyes, unconsciously leaning into the warmth of her touch.
“You’re not a burden to me, Jane,” Nanno speaks softly, running her thumb along the tenderness under her teary eye, “I said I was going to be your friend, didn’t I?”
Jane sniffles. This warmth, it’s… it’s overwhelming. She wants to drown in the palm of Nanno’s hand. She blinks, twin tears dripping from her eyes. But only one makes it down her cheek, for Nanno catches the other with the pad of her finger. Jane trembles at the low hum that rumbles in Nanno’s throat. There is a comfort in her mysteriousness that Jane doesn’t understand. There are many things she doesn’t understand.
And maybe that’s the reason she likes Nanno- because Nanno makes her feel okay, even when she’s at her smallest. Even when she’s confused, and lost, and naive. Nanno makes her feel like it’s okay to just be the person she is, even if that person is a flawed mess of a girl with too many eyes on her every move.
“You’re so sensitive,” Nanno murmurs, hands cradling Jane’s face as she leans in closer, “so prone to the pain and poison of this world, Jane…”
Jane cries like she has to prove Nanno’s point any further. The words sting, but only because they are true. Even then, Jane doesn’t want Nanno to let go of her. She doesn’t want Nanno to go. Her breaths are shaky through parted lips, trembling from how close Nanno’s face is to her own. She musters all her strength just to keep looking into the black of the latter’s eyes. A smile tugs at one corner of her lips, small and perhaps a little cruel. Jane can’t look away from her.
“But let me tell you something, okay?” Nanno asks, voice but a whisper. Jane goes silent in wait.
“Hearts like yours are always the sweetest. You’re capable of loving in a way that is tender, unlike the others. What lets you hurt more than the rest is what makes your heart a treasure.”
To brand her excruciating, overwhelmingly delicate words into the rarity of Jane’s heart that she speaks of, Nanno presses the gentlest of kisses onto her lips salted with tears. She then lets Jane into her arms, absorbing the shockwaves of her raw, broken sobs. Nanno holds Jane closer than she’s ever held another.
Closer than she’s sure she’s allowed to.
“I’ll protect you, Jane,” Nanno whispers against her crown, “because hearts like yours also break in the worst ways. I don’t want you to know what that feels like.”
And Jane understands then, as she cries like a broken little thing in Nanno’s arms, what these words mean. She understands, at once, what it means to love tenderly and painfully. She feels it with all she has, because it’s all she can do. Jane knows now that she loves Nanno, and it hurts.