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Hanako is good at keeping some secrets, but terrible at others. And to be honest, Nene had never quite figured out what drew the line between them. Whether it be dying, what he’s planning next week— when she felt she grew close to understanding him, she was never close at all.
In other words— Hanako is annoying.
Maybe, that morning, he thought he was being subtle. Or maybe, after ages of never saying what he means, she puts the pieces of him back together.
Though, Nene thinks, maybe she only could because she had known him for so long.
And— don’t tell — liked him for so long. (But that part is a secret she still wrestles with. Because when she finally finds the butterflies she’s daydreamed of for as long as she can remember, it’s a little different.
And wonderful, embarrassing, or, maybe embarrassingly wonderful. (Nene wonders if those are words that make sense when you put them together. If that’s a normal thing to feel towards one of your dearest friends).
Shakes herself, hard. The point is: it’s easy to know what Hanako is thinking.
Especially because he wears it, Nene knows, in that stupid, annoying grin on his face. That smile that made her fall a little in love with the stars.
“There’s a meteor shower tomorrow,” Hanako says.
He’s floating off the floor, now. He fiddles with a pencil in his hand, twisting it over his fingers. Tossing it in the air, then failing to catch it on the way down. “The Perseids— did you know there’s usually 50 to 100 visible meteors per hour?”
Hanako leans to fetch the pencil, begins to twirl it over his knuckles again. Like he can’t help but move some-way.
Nene, broom in hand, blinks. “A meteor shower?”
“Yes!” His voice is bright, excited. It makes Nene’s heart keel a little over in her chest so much she feels she’s dying.
The thing they don’t tell you about love, Nene decides, is that it feels like you’re having a heart attack.
She pretends she’s very intent on sweeping. Belligerent sweeping. She’s practically beating the ground with it- thwack, thwack, thwack.
Hanako turns, spares her a momentary glance. He seems to decide that this is normal behavior for Yashiro, because he turns right back away again.
“It’s one of the best, very popular. A lot of people go out to watch it.” He points vaguely to the window. “You can even see it … right through there.”
“That’s exciting!”
She finds the words come easily. She means them– so very much.
You don’t like him, Nene. You don’t. Just because your heart beats really fast, and you could listen to him talk like this all day, and you like him so much, doesn’t mean you have a crush on him. Wait.
She uses one hand to bonk herself in the side of the head. Hanako looks at her like she’s grown a second one.
He’s not your type, Nene. Remember?
It takes everything in her not to look up. Start twirling her fingers through her hair. It’s awfully embarrassing, to feel so much. For once in her life, a lot of her is starting to give up.
“Um,” She tries. “… When does it start?”
Hanako’s floating upside-down. “It’s really cool. We can —“ He stops himself, and the pencil slips from his hands. This time, it rolls away across the floor.
…We?
For a moment, Nene forgets how to breathe. She can’t help but look up at him, now, and a sheepish expression has washed over his face. A look in his eyes, like he might run away.
She always cherishes it. It washes over his face in a wave. Disappears in the mist of the tide.
Nene pauses to examine her broom. It’s possible, she realizes, that hitting herself directly may prove more effective.
That word— we. Her heart kisses her on the cheek.
“Er, you can probably see it from your window, starting late tomorrow, then right before morning.” He turns away— Nene can’t see his face. He seems suddenly interested in the tired bricks of the wall.
But she sees the gap of nervousness peering through his voice, the tenderness of his fidgeting. And he’s practically spinning upside-down. He can never play it cool for long, can he?
He said we. Her and him. Watching the meteor shower. Alone. Together. Together alone.
And then he changed his mind.
In her head, Nene beats herself with the broom. Because part of her knows that when he said ‘we’ her heart threw her whole soul away.
It’s fine, she chides herself. He was the one who uninvited her. Actually- he never even invited her in the first place. He probably didn’t really want her to come, anyways. She’ll stop thinking about it by the end of the day. Surely.
———--
It’s the end of the day and she has not stopped thinking about it.
And then it’s the night of the meteor shower, and she’s pulling her pajamas. Throwing her shoes on. It’s possible that now, as the moon seeps higher, she’s leaning over her half-open window.
For the past ten minutes, shes gone through a couple different pep talks.
So maybe he didn’t invite her there, exactly.
But he was thinking about it. Or, she thought he was. And that was good enough.
(Or maybe she was completely insane, and needed to be locked up somewhere, never to see the light of day again. She supposed she’d find out when she got there).
“I’ve never snuck out before,” She whispers. The room is empty except for her— and of course, Black Canyon. The faint sound of his shuttering wheel. Nene squeezes her eyes shut.
Go for it. I just need to go for it.
Part of being friends was looking out for each other. And, she reasoned, she’d had a lot of classes lately. She hasn’t had so much time to clean the bathroom. So he’d be happy to see her.
Trespassing on school property, Nene decides, is probably not even that bad of a crime. It’s made for students. So if anyone finds her there— she’ll tell them she’s doing her homework.
(She figures this will make them see her as just that devoted. Imagines herself walking down the hall, hair sparkling, long legs… she isn’t quite sure how that part will come in).
And he would be happy to watch the shooting stars with her. Wouldn’t he?
She’s a little giddy, thinking about it. Doesn’t notice the way one finger has weaved itself into a strand of hair.
She thinks of his smile— his voice next to the window. Him pointing out all the little stars. She likes it, she thinks, when he does that.
The sound of his voice, the little crack in his laugh. She was just- being a good friend, after all. It’s good to show your friends that you love the things they do.
And that maybe you’re a little in love with them, too. But you won’t tell them that part.
Yashiro Nene faces the window. Slides it open, all the way. It creaks a little under her hands.
“Black Canyon…” She says. “Give me strength.”
Black Canyon doesn’t answer.
(Both fourteen years old and with ridiculous dreams, Aoi had told her, sitting on the floor of her room— ‘Nene-chan, maybe it’s because he’s a hamster…’ and Nene had puffed up her cheeks, crossed her arms, and turned the other way).
She pictures him saluting her, so spiritual, a victorious symbol. In her mind, he’s dressed in a soldier’s uniform. His little hat caught in a brush of dramatic wind.
“Good luck, Yashiro Nene,” He says.
“You are the strongest of us all.”
And Nene hopes her stare conveys the same feeling. Hope, strength, her resolution. And then she’s pushing one slipper-bearing foot out over the edge of the frame, hoping a little herself, that maybe it’s not as high as it looks like it is.
———--
I’m Yashiro Nene — and it’s surprisingly easy to break into a school. It turns out that gates are pretty easy to climb, and a lot of people forget to close the classroom windows. If you’re ever looking to break in, I’m the one to look for!
(Her internal monologue fails to include the part where she had to climb a rock to reach the gate-handle. Or the part she almost walked into a closed glass door. She figures, in her now-sweaty pajama pants and bunny slippers, that it isn't so important to the story. And she refuses to give anyone more black-mail material).
Rule number 1: don’t ever wear bunny slippers to a break-in.
(She won’t ever add the why to this part of the story– share that the carpet of her house is much less slippery than the stairs she’d toppled over four minutes before.
Or that the inky, narrow hallway beside the girl’s bathroom is far more sinister than she remembers, and if she ever needed to scare somebody away, their adorable faces were far from intimidating).
She’s walking on the tips of her toes in an attempt to silence the squeak-squeak of her steps. Though, it isn’t doing much good, and that chill doesn’t leave her spine. She turns a corner—- another uninhabited room. Shudders at the sight before slamming the door.
The sound echoes through the empty hall.
At night, it’s a school where nobody has been for a thousand years. The only sound, pardoning the creak of floorboards beneath her toes, the whirr of some strange, distant ringing.
She’s running on adrenaline. She usually goes to sleep not long after the sun sets. Beneath cozy pink covers, drooling on her pillow, she stays. That’s normal, she insists. And it keeps her well rested. It’s taking every ounce of her will to hold back her yawns.
Fear welcomes itself in as she creeps around corners. This time, yes- no, over there, she’s sure, there would be some strange creature to jump out at her.
She feels her way past lockers, can barely make out her own palms in the dim light blinking through the windows. The bathroom… she was sure she would have found it by now. Or, perhaps she passed it by. Again.
When she sees a shooting star tonight, Nene decides, she’ll wish for a better sense of direction.
There’s a dull sound as she pushes her foot right into an unexpected corner.
A hiss of pain, then a wince, a crouch, feeling over the place where it hurts. Nene can hardly see a thing, cold lockers against her back. But through the fabric of her sock, the warm gash of her making bleeds into her hand.
Tears prick the corners of her eyes. She sniffs, interrupting that distant mechanical buzz with a pitiful ow, and leans a little backwards for a second’s breath.
She gets through half of a terrified sound when a cold hand brushes over the skin of her ankle.
“Hey– stop screaming.” Hanako’s voice is light.
"My assistant can't scream when she sees me, you know? It's just not a good look!"
"Hanako-kun- there you -... wait a minute!"
Nene yanks herself away, instinctive, clutching her foot. She can make out his outline, now that he's crouched beside her. Her vision adapts to the darkness. Hanako’s eyes appear, the yellow glint of them, the soft palm of his hand.
She demands, "How long have you been watching me?"
She knows that blink of guilt in his smile. Hates how much it charms her. "I don't know. I wondered how long it would take you to find me."
Nene takes a moment to picture this. Him relaxing, observing as she trails back and forth across the empty hallway. Slamming the side of her foot into an unexpected corner.
She exhales a frustrated breath- but takes it back in. An unexpected visitor in that awful tear of pain. He's raising her ankle in his hands. Even in the dim light, she can make out the furrow in his brow. Something like worry.
And then there's that swarm of delight dancing in her chest.
"I didn't think you'd hurt yourself."
Nene tries her best to swallow those butterflies. But it's nice to be worried about.
Rule number two: when you meet a ghost boy, and he isn’t your type at all, but he seems lonely and you do kind of like him, but you don’t, but the more you think about it the more you start to think that maybe—
“That’s no fun. Does it hurt?” His grip is gentle, firm. When he nudges her, tugging her towards him, it’s so subtle she almost doesn’t notice.
Nene blinks— and the tenderness in his voice is messing with her so much that it spills into her own.
“I think it’s just a bad scratch,” She tells him, her voice a little too high. “It hurts a bit, but I’m alright.”
His eyes turn back up to her. He lets her go, and her leg sinks gently back to the ground. She’s waiting for that worry to fade back in, sure he’ll continue his questioning. But he stops— and his frown swaps places with a puzzled look.
“What are you doing, creeping down the hallway like this?”
Words die in her throat. It suddenly occurs to her how crazy it seems, how she can’t exactly say, oh, I was just breaking into school property hoping to go find you, which is something that Nene is sure you don’t normally do for someone who’s just your friend.
Hanako doesn’t seem to be bothered. As soon as he lets her go, he’s floating somewhere else. She hears the sound of an opening locker — she’s lost for words, making out his shadow in the dimly lit hall. There’s a flutter of paper. He’s shuffling through a journal.
Then he glances up from the pages. Like he’s waiting.
When he’s looking at her like that… she can’t remember what the question was.
“Well, I, um—“ Yashiro Nene feels every thought flee her mind.
“The reason is…”
Something dawns on his face. Hanako closes the book.
“Oh,” He says.
Then, “Oh.” Slower- he draws out the word, like he cherishes the way it rolls off his tongue. “I get it.”
His voice is smug. It’s that stupid, annoying grin again. It’s that unbearable feeling that rushes into her ears.
“Yashiro.” When he says her name, when he can’t keep the smile out of his voice, something stupid blossoms in her heart. “You just wanted to see me.”
“No!” Cold shoots up her spine— freezes her from the inside-out. “I was…” She searches for a reason, any sensible, preferably not-embarrassing, use of her free will.
“Did you really miss me that much?” He teases, and though she can’t very well see it she hears the faint sound of the book he’s tossed over his shoulder hitting the floor. Nene prays the shadows disguise all the heat pouring into her face.
Finding an excuse isn’t as simple as it seems. “I was just,” She stammers, “… doing my homework.”
“You’re doing your homework,” Hanako repeats, delighted.
She straightens. “Yes.”
“By wandering around, with no papers… “
“That’s right.”
“…in the middle of the night, during the meteor shower…” He taps a finger to his chin, leaning backwards— and his smile gets more annoying with every word. “…at school?”
Nene curses his ability to float mid-air. It’s difficult to argue with someone you can’t reach.
It occurs to her, suddenly, that this is why she’s always tossed into the same space as Kou. Kou, who speaks three pitches higher when he’s nervous. Nene, with good ideas that never make much sense. Different ways of being heavens-help-them awful liars.
“Um…” It’s too late, now. She finds herself fiddling with the edge of her shirt. Soft cotton between her hands. As she rises to her feet, she rocks a little, avoiding pressure on her scratch. “Yes…?”
She waits for him to speak. It feels inevitable, now; with his gaze fixed right on her and all those words dancing in his eyes.
Hanako always has something to say, she’ll hide her face while he laughs. She’ll pretend to be a little bothered, even though she’s laughing too. Like it always goes.
Hanako sinks a little lower. He’s still looking at her, tilting his head. There’s a dangerous sense of humor washing over his expression. Nene can hear her heart beating in her ears.
“Hey,” He muses. He can’t keep the amusement out of his voice. “What is this outfit you’re wearing right now?”
Nene feels her whole face warm. She is suddenly very self-aware.
The heat in her cheeks, the quivering of her hands, the lightsaber-bearing hamsters dotting her pajama pants. And… her matching Hamster: Galactic Wars shirt.
The way his eyes on her make her want to twirl in circles, over and over.
“My pajamas…” She manages, though it comes out in an embarrassed mumble.
His laugh sparkles a little in the dark. It takes a little bit of the pressure off her chest. She feels him tug a little on her arm, leaning her weight into his side to help her up. The soreness in her foot fades into dullness.
“They’re perfect for doing your midnight homework at school!”
She can’t help but giggle, adrenaline still pumping energy into her legs as he floats alongside her. She hears him mutter to himself, push something out of the way with a clatter.
She can hardly see a thing, still. She wonders if he can, either— and comes to the conclusion that floating through the halls is probably far more convenient.
She hears him push open the door to the bathroom, and the open window washes them both in light. She can see him clearly, the shadow his hat casts over his eyes. She doesn’t bother to hide the way she’s staring. When he meets her gaze, he doesn’t seem to care.
And so she doesn’t faint she asks him, “Hey, where are your pajamas?”
Hanako only shrugs. His eyes trail off to the window, and it occurs to her that he must be missing the sky. Nene feels herself missing it, too.
“I’ve never needed them. Technically, I don’t need to sleep. When I do, I just sleep in my normal clothes.”
He pauses, glancing at the arm supporting Nene. “I can take them off, if that would make you feel better.”
This gets the reaction he expects, because when Nene jabs him with her elbow, he leans away. She barely misses him. When she goes for his shoulder, it only makes him laugh harder.
“I will beat you with my slippers,” She threatens.
Hanako hasn’t let his hand slide from under her arm. He throws up his other one. It’s a gesture of frantic surrender. With his laugh growing quiet, his arm loosens under her shoulder.
“Can you wait until the shower ends? I was excited to watch.”
Her gaze flits back to the window. A cold breeze blows through the open pane, washes through Nene’s hair, streams down the strands of it. And for a moment, she can’t recall what it feels like to breathe.
Stars, countless shooting stars, streak across the sky. She hadn’t really had the chance to look at them— toppling out of her window, sprinting across her yard before her parents wondered what fell out of their tree.
She finds she’s already wandered to the open square, her fingers gentle on the edge of the frame. Her hair flutters a little in the wind that grazes her face.
Nene opens her mouth to speak, but can only manage some gentle noise of awe.
Footsteps, gentle as the brush of the light. Hanako hoists himself up to sit on the edge. He seems content. There’s new energy in the little kick of his feet. His eyes remain fixed on the sky.
When he taps the space beside him, and Nene grimaces down at her still-kind-of-sore foot, he takes her hand and pulls her up to sit beside him.
It’s startling, for a second, and she marvels at his ease-- Nene often forgets her friend is a ghost. A laugh bubbles up in her throat. It fades before it escapes right into the dizzy feeling in her head.
She likes the way he smiles when she looks straight at him, the reflection of the tiny lights in his widened pupils.
He’s half studying the sky. She notices the way his eyes wander, every few moments, to look at her again. The way his gaze flickers away when she blinks at him a little too long.
It’s making her nauseous. The same so-happy-you’re-almost-sick she feels lying on her back with a storybook in hand, the way she has to close it and giggle, roll back and forth when she can’t bear the giddiness any more.
Naturally, she makes herself look at the sky again. Nene wonders if she’s going insane.
“It’s so beautiful,” She tells him, feeling awfully cliche.
He doesn’t answer, but a soft smile crosses his face. The silence is comforting.
It’s interrupted only by the subtle tug of his arm on the side of her sleeve. Nudging her away from the edge of the window in a way so gentle that, if she weren’t holding her breath, she might not have noticed.
As the stars reach onwards, she asks, “Hanako-kun?”
“Yes, Yashiro?” He seems enamored with the lights, now, because he doesn’t move at all.
“You said…” She shrinks. Her voice is huddled in a corner, hanging its head in guilt. She finds herself wandering back to playing with her hair, a nervous habit. She can’t bring herself to look at him, and her heart beats a bit too loudly in her ears.
“… You said.. that you were excited to watch the meteor shower. But, when you could’ve been watching it, you had to come find me, instead. I took that time away from you.” She hesitates. “So… I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
She manages to look up, finally. Hanako must have turned, because he’s already staring at her. A little tilt in his shoulders, playful.
His eyes are soft, charmed, far kinder than she had anticipated. “It was a nice surprise. And I’m glad you came to see it with me.”
His words send a momentary shiver up her spine. A giddy joy that makes her smile back, before her expression twists, his words processing in her mind. … came to see it with you…?
But by the time she thinks to protest, Hanako’s already turned away. She can’t tell if he’s smiling, or if he’s always had those little crinkles around his eye.
It seems, to Nene, that there’s not a way to salvage it– so she’ll suffer instead. It takes only a minute for him to turn back to her again, glancing at her, back at the sky– as if worried she might look away.
Quiet, again. When you’re seeing shooting stars… you’re supposed to make a wish, right? Nene wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as she is. Not that she could ever tell. But she’ll try to, anyway.
“Are you wishing to go to the moon?”
He gives her a smile. Something about it makes Nene’s heart tear itself out of her.
Hanako moves to tuck his knees into his chest. Rocks a little back and forth on the rail. Nene almost reaches out to grab his hand. But something else crosses his mind, then. He brightens.
“I wouldn’t see any shooting stars there, you know.”
Her brow furrows. “You wouldn’t? Why not?”
She follows the way he brushes his hand across the horizon. Enthusiasm spills over his voice.
“In a simple way— shooting stars are the debris of asteroids entering earth’s atmosphere, right? On the moon, it wouldn’t have the same atmosphere as we do here. so you wouldn’t see them like this.”
A second of silence. It’s obvious he’s enjoying himself. “You might get some dust…”
Nene tucks her own knees in. Mirroring him, not thinking at all. “That wouldn’t be any fun. Well… I guess, maybe it would be fun, because you’d be on the…”
Nene trails off, distracted by the way his fingers have moved in their borrowed time. Intertwined themselves with hers.
It’s quiet as they take each others hands. Both content in the silence, in observing the light dancing all around them. Nothing but the distant rumble of nature, the sound of their breathing.
It feels like forever passes by before Hanako speaks, again.
“It’s getting late,” He says.
She can’t read his expression. His eyes wander back to the stars. “I think you should go home—“ he hesitates.
There’s something like uncertainty in his voice. A grief. That strange little feeling in Nene’s chest.
“But…”
It’s the warmth that bleeds in between their warm-cold fingers. The thousands of broken-down stars flying over their heads. He’s terrible at saying what he really means. But Nene— oh, she wishes he would.
“But, what?” Nene whispers.
“I… don’t want you to.”
Maybe it’s the way he says it, or, his hands already in hers. But warmth swells up in her chest, sweeps into her cheeks. She squeezes his hand a little tighter— as if to show him just how much she doesn’t want to leave, either.
She doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh. Tear up, maybe. She’s tired, and stupid, and losing herself in every color of his eyes.
“I think you could’ve gone to the moon,” Nene tells him, and she means it. She finds that parts of him are becoming parts of her, already.
His fingers running along hers. The way they fit together. She likes it. All the cold, lonely places of his hands. “— but, I’m glad you’re down here, with me.”
Nene doesn’t think much of her words as they come out of her mouth. Says them, a little stupidly, too caught up in her dramatics.
It’s too late for him to turn away when his eyes grow wide, they way they do. The paleness of his cheeks blooms into a thousand roses.
He opens his mouth, she thinks, to say something. Doesn’t let go of her hand. Closes his mouth, again, looking back and forth a ways. Shuts his eyes, too, shaking his head.
He looks back at Nene, but something clicks in his expression, and he turns again. She hears the scuffling of his clothes as he shuffles, not even facing her way.
Nene strongly considers jumping out of the window.
“Um,” Part of her feels it, again— the same humiliation she did when she first pressed a kiss against his cheek. But this, she defends herself in her mind, wasn’t the same thing at all! It wasn’t like she— it wasn’t—
She resorts to burying her face in her hands. “… sorry.”
“I like you more than the moon.”
So quiet she can hardly decipher the words. Nene smiles into her hands, choking back a laugh.
It happens so fast. Cold hands gently brushing hers aside. A feather-light kiss, pressed against her forehead. And when she blinks up into his eyes, Hanako blinks back, looking just-as-startled.
He seems to realize what he’s done, because he pulls away again. Sits, quickly, with his back to her. Her hands are so clammy she worries she might slip. Stumble off the railing… doomed by her own sweat.
Why did he do that?
Was that, a romantic kiss? like, an I-love-you kiss or— In the 3 seconds that pass, Nene feels sick. He doesn’t make any sense! Could it… Did he mean it in that way, or…?
Or, is that a guy thing? I can’t… do they do that? How am I supposed to know?! I—
She can’t help but laugh. First out of the giddy feeling curling over her chest, before it occurs to her how ridiculous this is, how stupid, how she might wake up any moment and realize she’s only dreaming. The moon… his dream… this feeling..
“Better than the moon? I don’t think so…”
Hanako makes some sort of miserable noise. His hand, finally letting go of hers to pull her other towards him. He just looks at her hands, running his fingers over hers. He doesn’t say a word. Even his eyes, Nene thinks, are like the moon. Wide and golden and oddly haunting.
”… By tomorrow, let’s forget about this, okay? I shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Why would you say that?!” An unexpected flash of hurt in Nene’s eyes, flowing into her voice. Hanako sees it, because he shrinks away. His expression twists into something new and weird. There’s that wall, always between them.
Nene won’t cry. She refuses. But her desperate blinking gives her away.
Hanako can’t help it. His eyes soften, and she feels the wall, swaying, creaking in the wind. “Yashiro, I’m a ghost.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should care.”
She clambered all the way here. She dropped out from a window. She’s fought so hard for him— this whole time, the real him, and he just… beats around the bush. Nene doesn’t understand him at all, no matter how hard she tries.
But she wants to. So maybe, if he understood her …
“You’re… going to the moon!” She tells him, and he tilts his head so she plows on, “To me… you’re like going to the moon. Something I… even if it seems impossible, I…”
She knows his embarrassment. That tiny intake of breath, the back and forth glance when he doesn’t know quite what to say. Nene speaks, not thinking of her words.
“I told you I like you, didn’t I?”
The side of Hanako’s mouth twitches again, and she can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles anyways, before he can force it back into the dark. “It’s the truth. Yashiro. It’s not realistic. You’re still living, and you deserve to—“
“I’m staying with you!” Her voice, so frustrated now that she can’t disguise the pain in it. Neither of them can.
“Tell me how.”
It’s a challenge. A sad demand.
“I… haven’t figured that out yet.” So quiet, quiet and sorry. “But I’m here with you now. So… let me like you, right now. Okay?”
Hanako’s laugh is bitter, anguished. “I’m a ghost,” He repeats, as if she didn’t hear him the first time, “I’m a ghost, and you’re not, and— I’m not even a good person—“
Nene’s in too far already. “I like you, Hanako-kun.”
His blush deepens. “You shouldn’t.”
“That’s not for you to decide. I like you, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”
She sees him hesitate. He seems a little flustered by her words, struggles to shake them off of him. There’s a desperate affection, a frustration, boiling in her chest.
“I’ll only know you for a minute,” Hanako says in a voice so desolate she wants to pull him into her arms, “—compared to the rest of your life. You’re going to grow up, you’ll marry a wonderful person, and you’ll live long, happy lives together—“
“Well, maybe I want to do those things with you! Have you ever thought of that?!”
Nene has embarrassed him enough already. She was dumb enough to assume that she couldn’t make it any worse.
She’s never seen him blush, the way he does, the way for the first time she expects to feel the heat radiating off of his face.
Hanako doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, which somehow have become clammy in-between hers. Nene didn’t even think ghosts could do that.
Great going, Nene. What a weird thing to say. Now he thinks you’re a creep. A crazy, stupid creep.
But there’s no disgust, or horror in his eyes. Maybe some disbelief, but his uncertain stare is more shy than anything, and that silly affection bubbles in her throat again.
She watches the gears twist in his head. Hanako accepts his fate of embarrassment in real time, shivers, knocks as much sense into himself as he can.
“You’re tired, Yashiro,” He says, slowly. “You’re tired. And you need to sleep.”
He tells her this, like the words are heavy.
The corner of his mouth twitches every few moments, like he’s doing everything to keep himself from smiling. Something wonderful blooms in Nene. Something that wants to see that smile, again.
“I’m perfectly fine, and I’m capable of saying what I think I’m saying.” She folds her arms, a little miffed. Her words are still tinged with a familiar offense. She had failed to track the time, but it had to be well-past midnight by now.
What, he thinks she doesn’t stay up late during the school year? Well, he’d be correct. If that were what he thought. But, also— he has no right to make assumptions.
Even if her eyes are heavy, and she sways a little bit when her words carry on too long… she’s perfectly fine.
He smiles again. That moonlight peers into her heart. And she wants to smack it off his face.
“You’re the most hopeless person I’ve ever met,” Hanako says, but the affection in his voice is charmed.
“Well…” She searches for a response. “You’re the most annoying ghost. In the world.”
This, she fails to realize, is not the comeback she thinks it is. It only serves to make amusement twinkle in Hanako’s eyes, his legs circling the empty air below them.
Nene used to daydream about dates like this. Middle school journals full of knights and princes. She wouldn’t say anything.
But she decides she likes this more.
Hanako says, “I think you need to go to sleep.”
“You sleep.”
“I don’t need to sleep, Yashiro.” He clicks his tongue. “I’m a ghost. We’ve been over this already.”
“… Whatever.”
A clang. Nene has begrudgingly kicked the window rail. Hanako leans in, just a little bit, and it’s embarrassing the way adrenaline jolts through her.
“Are you… closing your eyes right now?!” He exclaims. “I think you are!”
“I’m not.”
“If you say so.”
He leans forward again, too fast. She pictures his outstretched hand pressed to her forehead — flinches, leaning backwards.
Hanako’s smile vanishes. He looks up, again, a question in his eyes.
Nene points an accusatory finger at him. “I’m not letting you… magic ghost touch me into sleeping! Or whatever you do!”
Just like that, his grin returns— but he quickly wipes it away, feigning shock.
“Touch you?” Hanako repeats, with a brief, disappointed shake of his head. “Yashiro… How uncouth…”
This, of course, is a ploy to irritate her.
“That’s— that’s not—“ But her cheeks warm. They always do. She can’t help the annoyance that washes over her face.
“What is your problem? I’m… whatever! That’s it! I’m leaving!”
She rises, stumbling off the windowsill. A sharp pain in her foot reminds her of the dark hall that awaits her. Her bunny slippers squeak with every uneven step.
Hanako’s voice echoes through the bathroom.“Oh… that’s unfortunate…”
Nene freezes in her place.
“Wait a minute…”
He’s watching her when she spins around. There’s an infuriating mirth in his eyes. “You’re trying to trick me! This is exactly what you want me to do!”
“What?” Hanako drags out the ‘a’ suspiciously too long, leaning against the side of the window. He still glances at the sky every now and again, stars streaking past his head. “Me? Trick you? I wouldn’t even dream of—“
”I’m staying right here!” Nene scrambles to sit on the window frame, again. Firmly beside him, so close her knees nearly brush him. “Perfectly awake, until the sunlight comes!”
His voice is a singsong of, “I don’t think so…”
I’m staying up.”
“If you’re sure…”
Nene loves when she can hear him almost-laughing. As annoying as it is.
Arms still folded, she leans into the wall, still on the railing. The metal presses into her legs in a way she’s sure will leave strange little press marks.
It’s far from her warm bed. Too cold for her taste, and unsympathetic of the straight line it forces her spine to meet. It has to be hours past her usual curfew, and she’d hoped it would be less breezy, but the wall is digging into her back. It’s not comfortable at all.
Nene quickly pushes away the thought.
“Yashiro,” Hanako wonders, “— Is it uncomfortable leaning on the wall like that?”
“No,” She snaps. “It’s perfect. I love leaning on the wall. I wish I could lean on the wall all day.”
They stare at each other. Nene wonders how low she has to sink for Hanako to be judging her.
“ Fine. Maybe I am. I bet you think this is so funny!”
“Not at all,” Hanako assures her, his voice cracking. More silence.
“…It’s a little funny.”
Nene opens her mouth to retort, but Hanako has moved to sit closer to her. His shoulder brushes hers. She shivers.
”Here. I won’t let you fall.”
He wants her to… lean on his shoulder. Lean. On. His. What? Nene feels nauseous. She hears him worry over her, a faint voice, and it throws her out of the fairytale cliches that star her thoughts. She quietly, slowly, leans against his shoulder.
“Well,” She admits. “It doesn’t hurt my back so much.”
“I thought so.”
Her eyelids feel a little heavier. But her heart is still pounding. Rewinding tired old movies, scenes of dancing in the rain. Nene reminds herself to behave.
She holds back a yawn. “Are you just trying to lure me into.. going to sleep? That’s not gonna work…”
“Absolutely not,” Hanako reassures her, a quiet voice. “I would never.”
“If you say…” Nene feels his fingers brushing along the stands of her hair. Makes his silhouette out in the dark, the solid of his hand not so far from her cheek.
It’s something oddly comforting. She’s used to it, by now. And her words get lost in her mind.
She remembers the stars streaming across the sky, still. Tiny lights falling into infinity.
Though, maybe not the way she slumped over on his arm, snoring. Or the way Hanako rests his head on her shoulder, too. Just for a little while.
Nene’s head is always in the clouds, isn’t it? He finds that some of her always makes its way back to him. Maybe tonight, he’ll make another wish.
“Goodnight, Yashiro,” He whispers. Though, the next morning Nene will wonder if it had all been only a dream. “I’m glad you came to watch the stars with me.”