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All Nene had wanted was to decorate for Christmas. Make the apartment look festive and feel cozy. But every time she dared to pull out any storage box from the closet, things had to become complicated.
Complicated and weird.
It only took some good intentions and one stumble over her own feet to get her to where she was—kissing a stuffed Christmas bear on the living room floor, ornaments and baubles scattered around her.
Not a chaste kiss, mind you. Nene was practically making out with the decorative plushy. She tugged at the suspenders of his little nutcracker uniform, pulling the bear's sewn-on thread mouth against her face. And through every movement, a grumble simmered at the back of her throat, her displeasure more than apparent. Displeasure at the mess of decorations that had flown out of the box she'd toppled over with. Displeasure at the throbbing ache in her hip where she'd landed on the floor after the fall. Displeasure at the lack of reciprocation from her kissing partner—not to mention the displeasure at such a ridiculous displeasure. What Nene was most displeased with, though, was the likely fact that a supernatural object had been squirreled away in the Christmas decorations.
So many years had passed since her high school days gallivanting with Hanako of the Toilet. One might have thought she could have left the magic and occult behind now that she was no longer Hanako's assistant.
Unfortunately, it turned out that becoming Amane's wife still left her with some supernatural surprises.
Namely, the pieces of his collection he didn't want to part with upon his return to a mortal form. After all, he'd spent over 50 years gathering and hoarding his various tools and trinkets from the Far Shore. Was he just supposed to let all that work go to waste? Surely, it wasn't too much to ask to keep his supernatural gizmos. For nostalgia's sake.
Ever the sentimental maiden, of course those points worked on Nene. She just didn't think he'd spread his collection of potentially dangerous ghost items through their combined belongings so thoughtlessly, though! She'd assumed they'd be stored somewhere all together. Maybe behind a big locked door where she'd never accidentally pull one out during her holiday merriment.
But no.
Nene was simply destined to end up losing control of her body's motor functions so that she could do nothing but helplessly make out with a sweet little Christmas bear she'd found at a rummage sale a few years back.
Needing an embarrassing amount of restraint, Nene urged herself away from the teddy bear once again, hoping that maybe this hundredth try might succeed. She took a couple steadying breaths as she tried to regain her composure. But just as the comforting sensation of normalcy started to set in, she felt the immediate follow up of that strange tension taking over. Her shoulders tensed and she squirmed under the odd pressure sitting in her center. And when she caught the sight of the nutcracker bear's fuzzy face, Nene submitted with an annoyed, “Damn it!” as she pulled it back to her lips.
There was no getting around it. Nene needed to kiss something. She was starving for it. Every second she didn't have her mouth plastered to another set of lips, her body rebelled against her until she was so wound up she thought she might implode.
It just happened to be that the only other mouth at her disposal was that of an innocent Christmas teddy bear.
Until the front door opened.
“Nene, I'm home! I picked up some…” Amane's gaze met Nene's as he stepped into the apartment, his train of thought disappearing as he spotted her. Both of them froze—him blinking down at her on the ground and her returning his stare with a look of pure mortification. It felt like an eternity and a half had passed before Amane finally broke the silence. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, sounding genuinely at a loss.
Suddenly, something blazed through Nene and she was scrambling to her feet. The bear that she had been practically glued to had lost its luster so abruptly now that Amane had appeared. And she was so set on her new target that she didn't even register Amane's look of panic as she charged up to him. Didn't notice his startled squeak as she pulled his lips to hers. She was too ferocious and hungry to care.
However, she wasn't so inattentive as to miss the pleased little grunt that escaped Amane once he started settling into Nene's rhythm. His arms reached around her, one hand tangling in her hair at the back of her head and the other resting on the small of her back. His coat was still cold from running errands and Nene found it soothing against the strange supernatural warmth coursing through her.
Of course, that wasn't nearly as soothing as the chill of Amane's lips. Nene was almost surprised they hadn't been blue when he walked in. The winter air clung to them like a fog, his lips steeping in the cold until he tasted thoroughly of frost. She groaned happily at the clash of temperature between them—Icy Amane and burning Nene meeting in the middle to sizzle into a messy cloud of steam.
It was through the release of that steam that Nene was finally able to regain some kind of rational thought back. “Amane,” she eventually managed to get out between heavy panting and melding mouths. “What the hell did you store in the Christmas decorations?”
Just as breathless, Amane hummed, seeming to ascertain the situation just by her question alone. “Mistletoe,” he mumbled.
“No, I mean a supernatural thing.”
“I know. Mistletoe. From the Far Shore. You must have touched it.” Pulling back so she could see his face, Amane donned his classic smirk. “Way more potent than the regular stuff, huh?”
Supernatural mistletoe. It was almost too obvious now that Nene thought about it. She might have been annoyed with herself for not realizing it sooner, but she was far too distracted by the curve of Amane's snarky smile to dwell on it.
Amane laughed at the indignant whine from Nene as she tried tugging him back to her. “Hold on. Are you just gonna keep kissing me here at the door?”
Nene aimed a glare at him. “What else am I supposed to do?” she demanded.
“Ask me nicely how to make the effect wear off?”
“I can do it myself,” Nene retorted before grabbing behind Amane’s neck and shoving her lips up to his again.
This time the kiss was determined and aggressive and Amane chuckled into it as Nene put her all into the task. But when she broke away, out of breath and patience, she found her energy had been spent for nothing. That simmering urge to return to Amane’s lips still sat active in her gut and she could feel its slow build into a boil.
Even worse, though, was the simpering grin on Amane's face. Clearly, he knew her efforts had been in vain. Yet he still had the audacity to ask, “Feel better?”
Nene could have strangled him. Maybe he'd pick up all his supernatural things if she sent him packing to the Far Shore as a dead man.
With an affectionate, if not slightly patronizing, sigh, Amane stepped toward Nene. “Here,” he said, lifting her chin up. “Ready?”
In the next moment, Nene braced herself. If her desperate attempts before had no effect, then just what kind of kiss could break the curse? Did there have to be biting maybe? Or blood even? What if she passed out from not breathing? Would that do the trick?
Then, while Nene added to her suspense, Amane tapped his lips to hers in a quick peck.
He stepped back with another smile. Nene blinked at him, confused. However, it didn't take long for the heat that had built up within her to dissipate. Relief flooded through her core as she felt her skin cool and her muscles loosen.
Almost as soon as she realized it, though, a new rush flew through her—Shock. “That's it?!” Nene shouted incredulously.
“That's it!” Amane confirmed, sounding far too satisfied for Nene’s taste.
“But…! But I…!” Each stammered restart of a thought seemed to tug at the corners of Amane’s grin, pulling it wider by the second. “What about all the stuff before?! Why didn't that work?!”
“Because,” he started, grabbing her cheeks in both hands and squishing them playfully, “you need to receive a kiss, not take one. Doesn't matter what kind of kiss as long as it's someone else kissing you.”
As the explanation took hold in Nene's head, Amane began to urge her toward him for another kiss. This one was sweet. Like many of their welcome home kisses or good morning kisses.
Pleasant and genuine and perfect.
It was almost enough to make Nene feel bad about her burgeoning plot to hide the mistletoe in Amane's stocking.
Almost.