Chapter Text
Tsukasa was bored.
He had long since tired of adding to his splattery masterpiece of paint mixed with various bodily fluids gracing the walls in the broadcast club. He had already defaced every single picture on the glossy pages of Mitsuba’s stash of gossip and fashion magazines with a Sharpie and the end of an unbent paperclip. He had high hopes for some glorious chaos when he found a bottle of hair removal cream in a gym locker and squeezed it into Natsuhiko’s beloved bronzing lotion, but those dreams were quickly dashed when the ornamental oaf seemed oddly pleased by his newly smooth arms, legs, and torso.
Floating listlessly through the weekend-quieted hallways, Tsukasa wracked his brain for something, anything really, that could offer him some entertainment. A pink clump of Mokke near the stairwell startled when they saw him approaching and quickly skittered apart, leaving behind a scattering of stolen trinkets and candy wrappers. He squatted down curiously to see what treasures he might find in the debris. There were a couple of K-pop style trading cards and a few coins. but those items held no interest for him. He did find and pocket what he reckoned to be an insulin syringe (needles were always a source of fun... For him, at least) and snapped the head off of a plastic anime action figure before he plucked a sticky, half-nibbled grape gummy bear from the floor and popped it in his mouth. He could feel the gritty texture from the ground on his tongue as well as the overly sweet fake fruit flavor. Nice. His eyes lit up as he sifted through the wrappers and he saw a couple of them were imprinted with jokes.
Amane liked jokes! He could go tell these jokes to Amane! He hadn’t been very welcoming to Tsukasa lately. He always seemed to be busy with his chunky-legged assistant or that feral exorcist boy during the week. Tsukasa gritted his teeth thinking about how Amane was always telling him to go away and to not dare go anywhere near that dumb girl. It was stupid! Tsukasa had an assistant, too! And his was older and fancier AND had bigger boobs than Amane’s flat-chested rainbow trout of an assistant! Tsukasa hmphed. Even at the weekend, when the campus was emptied of the living, Amane still was being weird He pretended he never wanted to play any of their old games or even be around his twin.
Tsukasa regularly spied on him, of course, but it was almost always painfully boring. Although Amane would occasionally participate in the Koi-Koi tournaments hosted by the Kamome Gambling Ring (headed up by a mob of less-than-savory Mokke, of course), he genuinely seemed to prefer playing endless hands of Hanafuda with a select fluffle of the creatures on his windowsill. If he wasn’t playing cards, Amane would occasionally amuse himself in the empty gym, trying to shoot free throws from different points on the court, volleying a tennis ball back and forth against the wall, or trying to score soccer goals from nearly impossible vantage points. All nods to the sports their hopeful parents put them into over their childhood years… All sports Tsukasa had gotten them banned from for one transgression or another. He suspected his Amane would’ve been quite a stand out athlete. It was almost a pity, really, that he never had the chance to grow up and get a lickable, muscular grown-up body. That was ok, though. Tsukasa really liked his young, skinny Amane just as much.
If none of those endeavors fit his current mood, sometimes Amane would sprawl in the grass near the gardens reading whatever manga, magazines, or novels he could scavenge from the living students’ possessions. Tsukasa knew he preferred science fiction and more action-packed tomes, but after 50 years… Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Tsukasa giggled to himself remembering the time that he had caught Amane avidly reading a cheesy shouju manga called Kamisama Kiss. Tsukasa had almost died again, but from injuring himself in a fit of maniacal laughter so intense he’d forgotten to stay afloat. He'd fallen from the ceiling, crashing onto the hard floor, wheezing painfully in his fits of laughter, even peeing a little. He knew that Amane had been genuinely embarrassed about that incident, especially when he'd mocked him and called him his precious little twink, reminding him in great detail of all the times he'd been used like a bitch and how much he'd actually enjoyed it... He'd even seen tears start welling up in his beautiful Amane-y eyes, just like the old times. He really was just so adorable.
A few times, when he’d been exceptionally stealthy. Tsukasa had caught Amane, pencil in hand, feverishly trying to recreate the wantonly erotic images and scenarios manifested by his rollicking teenage hormones in a sketchbook gifted to him by Shijima. He wasn’t much of an artist, but Tsukasa could get the jist from the positioning of the scribbled figures. His skill had begun to improve and Tsukasa had been excited to see sensual lips and rounded asses begin to appear on the pages, but Amane was pretty secretive about his sketchbook and Tsukasa hadn't seen it in months.
So, Tsukasa had begun to keep an eye out for any and all x-rated material. Not because he was especially interested in such childishly tame pornography, but because he was positively giddy with the idea of remaining the only source of sweet Amane’s carnal desires. It's not like it was hard to provoke the hormones of a teenage boy, even a teenage boy who'd been dead for half a century. If centerfolds of fake tits on pouting whores made Amane needy, that was fine with Tsukasa.
He quite liked to imagine his Amane alone, groaning and whimpering like he used to... Even if he wasn't there, he had made certain his memory left a scars on every single sexual experience imaginable. In that way, he would always be a part of Amane's arousal. Lips, hands, tongues, nails, teeth... It didn't matter the medium or the positioning. Tsukasa felt satisfaction in knowing he would always his Amane's first.
So if Amane, regrettably, liked looking at boring girls, that was ok. Tsukasa would help him. He had managed to score a couple of pornographic treasures to gift his beloved twin over the years, but unfortunately, as the years marched on, far fewer nudie magazines were in print. The masses of horny teens learned to happily embrace their tablets and cell phones for their daily doses of debauchery. Selfish little brats! Did no one care about the sexually deviant desires of those souls without an electronic device? What was this world coming to? Tsukasa tsked to himself quietly when he thought about the kids these days.
Skipping through the hallway with a sticky wad of Laffy Taffy wrappers clutched in his sweaty fist, Tsukasa felt extremely cheerful. He was going to see his Amane! He even had jokes to share with him! Amane would be happy to see him and not insist he go away! Maybe he wouldn’t even get that weird ‘fraidy cat look in his eyes. That was the one look that always kinda grossed him out because it was so selfish for Amane to look like that without Tsukasa forcing it. Amane was his favorite! He liked Amane when he was happy and laughing and he really liked Amane when he was whimpering and begging... But his favorite Amane was the one who was so pissed that he wasn't in control any more and he barely even looked like the brother he knew. When Amane was completely out of his mind furious, he was delicious. But Amane going all shell-shocked and frozen like total pussy without even an active threat? That version Amane just made Tsukasa want to bash his face in and forget that he’d ever even had a brother.
He phased through the closed door of the bathroom, feeling his twin’s presence near. Tsukasa sucked in a breath to yell for his brother’s attention. But…
Wait. That's weird?
He hesitated, gazing around the room, searching for his Amane. There were no Mokke gathered in here. Amane wasn’t perched carelessly on his windowsill like usual. Tsukasa strained his ears, listening for any indication that his twin was hiding from him. Did he want to play a game? Is that what this was? His Amane knew he loved games!
A very faint muffled sound came from behind the closed door of the third stall.
Was it a giggle?
Tsukasa floated closer, a gleeful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, planning to yank the door open and startle Amane. As he stealthily reached for the handle, his eyes widened as he heard the same sound again, only…
Less muffled. Definitely not a giggle.. More like a… whimper?
Was Amane hurt? Tsukasa leaned close to the door and listened hard.
“Ohhhh yesssss… Please…”
Suddenly, recognition jolted through Tsukasa, his eyes widening and his face lighting up in diabolic delight.
His Amane was jacking off?!
What was he thinking about? Was he maybe reminiscing? Those were great times... Or wait… Was he using one of the magazines his brother had gifted him? Tsukasa felt positively electrified with the certainty that he was inevitably the granter of his twin’s pleasure.
Wait… He was alone, right?
Tsukasa’s eyes widened impossibly further at that thought and then narrowed. He floated up slightly and then pressed his face through the heavy wooden door to view the goings-on for himself.
His Cheshire grin returned.
Amane was alone alright. His jacket was discarded on the floor, as was his cap. Amane’s back was to Tsukasa, left hand was pressed into the wall of the stall, head bowed forward. His breathing was heavy and Tsukasa could hear the rhythmic fapping sound of his hand stroking his length.
How exciting! Tsukasa’s hand snaked down to cup his own growing bulge as he floated up for a better view.
“Fu-ffff-fuu- fuck yessssssssss,” Amane stuttered breathily, his hand picking up speed.
Tsukasa’s mouth watered as he tightened his grip on himself and tugged to match the rhythm of his Amane.
“S-S-" His voice hitched with a soft moan.
Amane was thinking of him! He was about to moan his name! Tsukasa's strokes quickened in anticipation of his memory pushing Amane over the edge.
"S-So good... Y-YASHIRO! Dear God, yessss!” Amane groaned lustily and Tsukasa’s hand froze.
The fuck?
Tsukasa's entire body went weirdly numb. His thoughts were whirling. He could swear he felt a knife twisting in his guts. How... interesting. Can ghosts experience deja vu?
Well... This simply wouldn't do. He made his decision instantaneously.
Forcing his lips into his trademark face-splitting smile and consciously preparing to brighten his voice, Tsukasa leaned his lips within mere millimeters of his twin’s ear.
“Wha’cha doin’, Amane?” he sing-songed breathily.
At the sound of Tsukasa's voice right by his ear, Amane jerked his head up and his back jolted straight. He instinctively started to whirl around before he halted and curled into himself protectively in an effort to hide his exposed arousal.
“Holy SHIT, Tsukasa! Get OUT! NOW!”
He frantically tried to zip up his pants and do something to stop this nightmare, but he knew his lookalike's demonic side all too well.
Tsukasa floated up above his brother's head, doing gleeful somersaults in the air, laughing his head off with manic glee.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Amane,” the crazed twin cackled, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Wait 'til everyone hears about this! Yashiro's gonna be so disgusted with you!”
Hanako felt bile rising into his throat.
Oh dear God. PLEASE no.
He wanted to yell at his twin that he better not. To promise him injury if he did this. Instead, all he managed was a weak, croaky, "Tsukasa, please..." before his brother zapped from the stall, his mocking laughter still echoing on the walls.