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“I’m not like you,’ she commented, her shoes clacking on the cement road which still shone from the earlier rainfall, as the moonlight melded with the fuzzy orange glow of the street lamps, dancing in the puddles scattered throughout the street.
Amane tilted his head, turning towards her as she pulled her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. He raised an eyebrow, curious.
‘Your meaning?’ he asked, kicking a stray pebble in front of him as he walked, his converse scuffed from constant wear.
‘You know,’ Nene said, waving her hands like that was a reasonable explanation, ‘I just…Don’t deal with stuff like…that, as well as you do,’ She gestured behind her, waving vaguely in the direction of the place they’d just left, a party hosted by one of their classmates.
It had been so loud, full of drunken teenagers and music that rattled deep in their bones, tables stacked with piles of alcohol and cheap snacks on every corner. Nene had practically begged him to leave.
‘I’m not mad at you, Yashiro,’ said Amane, pleasant smile playing on his lips, ‘I don’t care that you hate parties,’ his expression became once again playful, as he dramatically held a hand to his forehead, calling out in his best British accent, ‘Why, in the days of my youth, I, too, was frightened of attending such revels!’
She elbowed him in the side, laughing, ‘Days of your youth? You’re seventeen, Hanako,’
Amane didn’t say anything about how that childhood nickname made him feel, instead opting to tease.
He stuck his tongue out at her ‘It’s called acting, Yashiro. Duh,’
‘I wouldn’t count that as acting, considering it was less believable than Kou’s little sister at her school play,’ Nene stifled a laugh at the memory of Tiara waving her arms and yelling like a crazed bird.
‘You’re so mean to me,’ he pouted, shaking his head.
‘Only to stop you from being so cocky,’ she replied, the anxiety from the party having seemingly melted away. Amane was glad. He hated seeing her like that, practically sobbing as she yanked on his sleeve and asked to go home.
Yashiro didn’t like parties. It wasn’t a big deal, obviously, and no one ever mocked her for it, but it still made her feel somehow inadequate. Lesser than her more outgoing classmates.
And it wasn’t like she hated crowds, she was fine in a bustling shopping mall or a busy concert, and she didn’t mind loud music or drinking, it was just…something about all those things combined that made her feel like throwing up.
Still, she had wanted to come tonight, had practically gotten on her knees as she plead with Amane to take her. She had thought it would be fine, but the second he slipped away from her, chatting with some other guest, Nene had almost burst into tears, feeling her stomach do somersaults with anxiety.
They had been there for scarcely twenty minutes when she’d given up and asked to leave. He’d assured her it was fine, had told her not to worry about it. It didn’t matter, he’d said.
But it did — to her, at least. Everyone her sage went out, had fun, drank until they were throwing up and then drank some more, dancing like the world was made for them. It seemed such a quintessential part of the teenage experience that Nene could never shake the feeling that she was being left behind.
She chewed her inner lip as she walked, wishing that she wasn’t such a crybaby when it came to social events, wishing she could just be cool, like her friends. Like Aoi, her gorgeous best friend who easily flirted around every corner of every event like she was the most important person in attendance. She usually was.
‘Stop sulking over there,’ Amane said, his voice cutting through the quiet.
‘Huh?’ she said, ‘Oh— Uh-…Yeah, sorry.’
He smirked at her, a laugh just barely spilling out of his mouth as he ruffled her hair a little, ‘Pay attention, Yashiro’ he scolded jokingly.
‘Shut up,’ she grumbled, but there was no bite behind her words, and she smiled slightly when she looked away from him, trying to fix her now frizzy hair.
He paused then, right in the middle of the road, and grabbed her hand as she walked past.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘When’s your birthday?’
‘What?’ she laughed, slightly nervous at the sudden change of pace,
‘Just answer the question,’ he said
‘Next week. Saturday,’ she told him, tilting her head in confusion, ‘Why?’
‘No reason. Just wanted to make sure,’ he replied smoothly, letting go of her wrist and resuming his brisk pace. She had to jog a little to catch up.
‘You’re crazy, Hanako,’ she giggled, bumping their shoulders together.
‘Eh. I couldn’t possibly be more crazy than you, Yashiro,’ he returned the gesture, grinning playfully.
She smiled, the darkness hiding her blush, as she felt her cheeks heat up with a feeling she couldn’t quite place. Something about his smile made her feel cozy inside, and she didn’t want to think about that too hard, in case it made her die of embarrassment.
•••
The first time they met, Nene was twelve. Amane was thirteen, being a few months older than her.
They met in the girls’ restroom, which wasn’t what most people thought of when asked “Where did you meet your best friend?” — but that didn’t matter, because Nene and Amane were far from being anything like most people.
It had been summer, and the cicadas had been screaming at such a volume that they could be heard from every direction, a low, near-constant humming screech. Nene had always found them a bit creepy, to tell the truth.
Anyway, it had been summer, and the school building had been so hot, and everyone inside it had been laying down, lounging on desks or practically melting into the floor, their scrawny primary school bodies draped over every surface that wasn’t radiating steam.
Nene had been tying her hair up, repeatedly splashing water into her face to try and cool herself down, standing by the slightly grubby sink of one of the less populated bathrooms. People tended to avoid this one like the plague, thanks to a rumour of it being haunted by some unfortunate schoolgirl, whose life had been cut unnaturally short.
One of Nene’s classmates claimed to have seen her, a floating girl with translucent blueish skin and matted, unkempt hair tied into uneven ponytails. Apparently she had a knife or something, but Nene had zoned out at that point so it could’ve been a different weapon.
Nene had never been scared of ghosts. She’d always thought they were…cool. She found occult objects and haunted houses to be more fascinating than scary, and people tended to think of her as strange because of it. She just…didn’t get the fear. Why he scared of a ghost, when she could be befriending one? It made perfect sense to her, but the logic was seemingly lost on her peers.
So there she’d stood, splashing water into her face, relishing in the fact that she was the only person to think of escaping the heat in this particular bathroom, when she heard it.
A cough.
It had come from the stall right at the end of the bathroom, the third stall. The supposedly haunted one. The hairs on the back of her neck had stood up, a mixture of fear and excitement bubbling around inside her.
In her mind, there had been only two possibilities to arise from the small sound: Either there was a ghost (which would’ve been awesome) or there was a serial killer that liked hiding in bathrooms to stalk their victims (which would not have been awesome in the slightest).
For some reason, she decided to cough back. Thinking back, it didn’t make any sense, but at the time it had seemed the best way to alert the serial killer/ghost to her presence.
Silence, for two, maybe three seconds.
And then the door of the stall began to creak, slowly opening up. From when she was standing, Nene couldn’t see anything inside, but she did see the door as it swayed forward, revealing a shadowy void she couldn’t quite crane her neck enough to see into.
Someone stepped out. It was not a serial killer, and it wasn’t a ghost either.
A boy, around her age, maybe a little older or slightly younger, dressed in a standard school uniform that was just a little bit too big for him, a bandage on his cheek. His hair was short, ebony black and clearly tousled, like he had neglected to brush it that day. His eyes were almond-shaped, bright and warm like amber, reminding her of golden bonfires and deep, mystical forests all swirling with mist.
‘I didn’t think anyone else would be here,’ he said casually, quirking an eyebrow at her. As if she needed to explain herself.
Nene had been a little distracted the presence of a boy in the girls’ bathroom, so she’d spluttered indignantly.
‘This is the girls’ bathroom. You’re not allowed here,’ she’d said face flushing furiously, ‘What kind of a pervert sneaks into bathrooms?’
‘I’m not a pervert,’ he’d countered, crossing his arms over his chest like he was offended, ‘This is just the only haunted room at school. It’s not my fault this is the only place no one ever comes to,’
‘Sounds like exactly the kind of excuse a pervert would make,’ she replied, returning his glare.
‘Why are you here, then? You’re not using the place,’
‘Just ‘cause. Everywhere else is too hot,’ she said, and caught herself before he could make a retort, ‘Besides, I’m allowed to be in here,’
They’d argued for maybe half an hour before they simultaneously realised how stupid the conversation had become over that time, and then Nene had shaken her head and admitted that he was probably not a pervert. After that, they went and sat on the cool, tiled floor together, skipping class in favour of each other’s quiet company, and they’d spoken about their lives.
At some point, she laughed and said ‘Y’know, I thought you were the bathroom ghost for a second— what’s her name again?— Oh, yeah, Hanako-san! I thought you were Hanako-san,’
They’d giggled over that for a bit, and then told each other their names, to which Nene told him
‘Amane? That’s a weird name. I think Hanako-san suits you better—‘ she’d interrupted herself with a fit of laughter, and he’d glared at her with an unimpressed look.
She called him that, from then on. It just…because a thing they did. Even years later, even now that they were too old to believe in children’s ghost stories, she still called him that. Hanako, the bathroom ghost. Hanako, her friend.
~
The night before her birthday, she was lounging on the couch, some uninteresting 2000’s slasher playing quietly on the TV, scrolling aimlessly through her Pinterest boards. The movie was just like every other slasher movie, unbearable thirty year old actors playing unbearable teenagers, being hunted by some tall, silent guy in a mask.
Currently, the main girl was running for her life through a very, very foggy forest. The director must have liked smoke machines. Anyway, the main girl was running along, all bloody and beaten up, while the villain stalked along behind her, trying to look ominous. Nene wondered how it was possible to be caught by a murderer that moves at like, half a kilometer per hour.
Nene yawned, glancing back towards her phone, when a notification popped up of her screen. A text from Amane. She glanced at the time, tilting her head in confusion. He never usually texted this late. Curious, she clicked on the notification banner.
11:25 pm
Hanako-kun : I’m outside ur house lol
She glared at the message. It was almost midnight on a Friday, and he was outside her house. Okay. Weird, but definitely not something he’d be opposed to doing. She stood up, glad that she’d been too lazy to change into her pajamas earlier. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, but she didn’t need to change into something else on order to leave the house, so that was good.
Her shirt was black and oversized, the logo to some indie rock band printed on the front in faded lettering. It used to be her mom’s shirt, when she was Nene’s age. Her pants were simple, black mom jeans that were surprisingly comfortable to sit around in, and a pair of converse she stole from Hanako when he outgrew them years ago.
Her long hair, usually neatly styled, was cascading down her side in a messy braid she’s haphazardly done to keep it out of her face.
That was fine. It was the middle of the night; she couldn’t be expected to look her best. So stood up from the couch, tucking her phone into one of her front pockets and straightening out the wrinkles on her shirt, then switched off the TV and began tiptoeing her way out of the living room.
She crept to the front door, careful not to step on any of the creakier floorboards as she did, and when she opened it, there he was.
He was wearing a T-shirt, like her, the NASA logo smack in the middle of it. Over that, he wore a simple black and grey flannel shirt and a pair of black jeans, along with his typical converse sneakers. There were stars scribbled on his pants, something she knew to be his go-to boredom killer.
‘Hey,’ he said, half-smile dancing playfully on his expression.
‘It’s nearly midnight,’ she deadpanned.
‘I know,’ he shrugged, offering his hand, ‘Let me take you on a drive?’
‘In the middle of the night?’
‘Come on, it’ll be fun,’ He said, grinning as the moonlight glittered in his eyes. She couldn’t say no to that smile.
‘Yeah,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders, ‘Alright, fine,’
She took his hand, the one he held outstretched to her, rolling her eyes at the exaggerated gesture. He led her to his car, the slightly sweet scent of the evening mist rolling over the land and curling around her ankles as she trailed after him.
He winked at her, bowing down to open up the passenger’s side door.
‘M’lady,’ he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
‘Quit being weird,’ she grumbled, collapsing comfortably onto the firm leather of the car seat, buckling her seatbelt as soon as she was sat.
‘You like it when I’m weird,’ he supplied, grinning, as he walked around to the other side of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.
He started the car, and so they began their spontaneous late night drive.
‘I’m in charge of the music,’ she said, just as soon as the car had begun moving.
‘Fine,’ he said, reluctantly handing her the aux, ‘but only ‘cause it’s your birthday in,’— he paused to check the time —‘ half an hour,’
She grinned, plugging her phone into the cord and scrolling through her Spotify playlists, selecting one she felt was fitting.
They drove aimlessly down roads and highways, Nene watching the glow from streetlights as it dripped down from the mhm and pooled in the streets, making the rain-slick roads glisten like star-studded skies.
She hummed along to the softly playing music, nodding her head in time with the beat, listening to Amane as he sang quietly to the songs he recognized and tapped his feet to the rhythm of those he didn’t.
She smiled affectionately, glancing in his direction every time she grew bored of staring out the window.
They carried on like that for what could have been hours — time always seemed to slip away when the two of them were together — driving towards some unknown destination he’d chosen and refused to tell her.
She let her eyes fall closed, half-asleep as the lull of the engine brought her waking dreams about honeybees and picnics.
She felt the car stop a few minutes later, opening her eyes to see…a field.
Just a field. There was nothing in sight except for it and a distant forest, maybe two kilometers ahead. Amane had stopped on the very outskirts of the field, where a dilapidated streetlight failed to illuminate the deserted road they had been driving on.
She glanced towards the dashboard, reading the time — it was almost two in the morning. She looked at Amane, seeking an explanation, but was met with a sheepish smile, devoid of all the usual mischief.
‘What is this?’ she asked, puzzled.
‘You’ll see,’ he offered, already unbuckling his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without any form of proper explanation.
She thought about it for a moment, then did the same. He said she’d see, and there was no harm in finding out what the point of this trip was.
He stood beside the car, leaning against the door like he was waiting for her. In her lungs she caught the taste of sage mingling with the scent of wildflowers and camellia blossoms, wafting through the air from the forest.
She watched as he hoisted himself up onto the roof of the car, almost scratching it in the process.
‘Seriously, Hanako, what’s going on?’ she laughed, taking the hand he offered to her and allowing herself to be pulled up so she could clamber onto the top of his car and sit next to him, squirming into a more comfortable position.
‘I know how much you hate big social events and partying and stuff, so I brought you here for two reasons,’ he said, ‘Number one is to warn you that Aoi already set up a surprise party for tomorrow ni— tonight? I don’t know. Time is weird when it’s this late…or early…- Ugh, just, never-mind the time,’
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘The point is that I’m warning you in advance so you don’t freak out. Reason number two is…I just thought you’d like it here,’ he looked away from her as he said it, an almost undetectable blush spreading across his cheeks, ‘Uh, take a look around. I guess,’
Nene shrugged her shoulders and decided to comply, and it was then that she actually looked — really looked — at their surroundings.
The field itself was bursting with foliage, tall thin grasses swaying in the late night air and a soft bed of clovers and moss blanketed the earth, patches of sleeping wildflowers dotted across the landscape like tiny pink and white islands in a sea of green, lit by the unwavering gaze of a full moon and blanketed in the deep blue haze of nighttime.
Off to the East, the farthest reaches of the sapphire sky had begun fading to lilac as the sun began its ascent from the horizon, though it would still be two or three hours before it actually rose.
But what really mesmerized Nene was the sky, a brilliant blue, shining with the light of more stars than she had ever seen in her life. There must have been millions, tiny specks of light flickering above their heads, shimmering like priceless jewels.
In the city, a person could never hope to see this many. They were constantly obscured by the thick cloud of pollution that hung over urban areas like a ghost, but now that she could see them clearly, Nene felt like she was hypnotized, like her eyes were spinning in her skull to match the waltz carried out by the lights glittering above.
She gasped, eyes widening in awe, her mouth open in wonder. Nene fell onto her back, hair spreading out around her in unrecognizable patterns, flowing over the metal surface of the roof, as she stared longingly up at the stars.
Amane sat next to her, glancing down to look into her eyes and smiling when he saw her expression. She returned it, grinning so wide her jaw began to ache.
‘Happy birthday, Yashiro,’ he breathed, his voice light.
‘Hanako…’ she began, but couldn’t find the right words, ‘It’s…it’s so wonderful,’
His eyes, swirling with reflected starlight, gazed intently into hers as he grinned.
‘I knew you’d like it,’ he smirked, lying down on his back beside her.
‘I do,’ she gushed, ‘I really, really do,’
Something within her welled up suddenly, and she found herself reaching blindly for his hand, intertwining their fingers before she could stop herself. He jolted, but didn’t make any move to pull his hand away, so she tightened her grip.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, her words swallowed by the wind so only he could hear them. They were only meant for him, anyway.
He didn’t say anything, instead turning slightly so he was facing her. She repeated the motion, and found herself centimeters from him.
His face was flushed, his eyes wandering for a beat before they found her own, and suddenly they were staring at each other, faces red enough to notice even in the darkness. Shadows danced across Amane’s features, and Nene found herself drawn to them.
She took a deep, shaking breath, reaching up to trace the patterns formed by the darkness as they shifted across his cheeks. She didn’t say anything, her mind going much too fast to form coherent thoughts, let alone words.
He breathed a long, slow sigh. Content. Peaceful. His eyelashes fluttered, and she thought about how they reminded her of whispering reeds, of the rustling sound made by the wings of a crow.
They stayed like that for a few seconds, drinking in the silence and one another’s presence, and then Amane’s expression changed slightly.
‘Can I kiss you?’ he asked, his voice so soft she almost didn’t hear it.
She thought about saying no, about running away from this moment — because what if it was a joke? What if he didn’t mean it, and just wanted to make a fools out of her? What if— but then she stopped, because suddenly it became clear that it didn’t matter. She wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to kiss her, and everything else was irrelevant.
‘Yeah,’ she managed to say, choking on her own nervousness.
Her face felt like it was burning from all the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she didn’t care, not now. She closed her eyes, leaning a tiny bit closer.
His lips were soft. Softer than she’d expected. She felt the warmth from his touch as it sent sparks across her skin from the tips of her fingers to the deepest reaches of her heart. She kissed him back, wondering if he felt like he was swimming in stardust, if his heart was hammering like hers was.
He tasted bittersweet, like cinnamon and brown sugar and something else, a taste uniquely his own. Like running home in the rain as a child, splashing through puddles in brightly coloured boots, grinning with excitement as raindrops lash against clothes and soak through the fabric.
He brought his other hand up so he could run his fingers through her hair, and she felt him smile against her lips.
He pulled away then, his hand tangled in her hair. She looked at him, her eyes wide and shimmering, a smile plastered on her face. A smile which he returned, without even a hint of anything but nervous joy. No teasing, no clever quips, no banter. Just them.
‘I’m really happy, you know,’ she mumbled, ‘I’ve never had a birthday like this,’
‘I wanted to do something special for you,’ he replied, ‘You deserve it,’
She pressed her forehead to his, unable to stop smiling, and allowed him to aimlessly tangle his fingers in her hair, as he began to hum a song she didn’t know. The melody was sweet, a little bit sad, but nevertheless lovely, and she joined in once she understood it.
They fell asleep like that, their heartbeats droning rhythmically into the night. In Nene’s mind, there was a thread drawn between them now, a string made of starlight and dewdrops, tying the two of them together by the heartstrings.