#dead poet's society and loona yyxy inspired

[shibyn]

anywhere, with you

toilet bound hanako kun || aoinene || 16k || ao3

Like a crack of thunder, "Yashiro Nene!" jolts Aoi from her thoughts. "What in Heaven's name did you do to your socks?!" Along their line up, most of the girls turn to the offender-- who grimaces, quickly losing the straight-back posture she's meant to have to duck her head in shame.  Aoi can't see the socks in question without bending out of line, but she doesn't have to wait long to get an idea of them: "The violets bloomed this morning!" Yashiro Nene rushes to explain, flustered from the sounds of it. "I really wanted to get a closer look, so I did-- but I remembered what you said last time, when I scratched up my shoes from the shrubs, so I took them off and--" "So you walked in the dirt with just your socks?" Ms. Yako shrieks.  "Yes?" squeaks Nene. 

Eden Academy is an elitist institution that prides itself on being able to streamline young girls into the proper, to-be-seen-and-not-heard ladies of high class society.

When she was told that Yashiro Nene is moving into the empty side of her dorm room, Akane Aoi wasn't expecting for her whole world to turn around.

______________

At ten o'clock sharp, inspection begins.

Ms. Yako, while not cruel, is unyielding and unforgiving. As the instructor designated for uniform inspection, her keen eyes do not miss a single detail. 

Upon stepping in front of Aoi, she does not waste time in pulling at Aoi's lapel, clicking her tongue at a crease Aoi missed while ironing. A tap on the side of Aoi's calf– the sock rests too low on her calf, and therefore is rumpling along the ankle. She does nod appreciatively at Aoi's posture, but does tug on the sleeve of her blazer so that the shoulder sits properly.

"You should know better than this, Ms. Akane," Ms. Yako tuts, voice as sharp as the sound of her fountain pen scratching against her clipboard.

Without much fanfare, Ms. Yako moves to the next girl. Aoi breathes out from her mouth, slow and measured. Not bad, all things considered. By this point, Ms. Yako is essentially nitpicking things about Aoi's uniform that she wouldn't on others to keep from seemingly having favorites. 

It's understandable. Approaching month four since the start of the semester here at Eden Academy, Aoi is the closest thing to a star student here. Each and every assessment they have laid in front of her, she's excelled in-- her peers have begun to assume that there has to be a catch of some sorts, since even with their prideful family titles and standings won't sway the harsh truth of Eden's instructors' evaluations. 

Aoi resists the urge to close her eyes. As pompous as it sounds coming from her, it's all simple– all of the assessments here follow a simple criteria. Do what you're told.

Eden Academy is an elitist institution that prides itself on being able to streamline young girls into the proper, to-be-seen-and-not-heard ladies of high class society. To be a school with such a success rate, the only way to get girls to conform to the aristocratic standard is to let nothing fall out of line. They'll only go short of beating anything not lady-like out of you.

Everything here was designed to be stunning. Polished marble floors in every room, embellished crown moldings along high-reaching ceilings. Portraits of prior headmasters and sponsors hang from nearly every square inch of free walls, regal to each individual stroke of oil paint. Extravagant, solid wood furniture at every corner. Sprawling, handwoven carpets at every turn. 

Beautiful, of course. Absolutely life-draining, as well. 

To be in the halls of high society, you must be high society. Every step you take in these halls, you must be worthy– the polished floors will reflect your every flaw, the portrait's soulless eyes pay due judgment as you pass under, the domed ceilings reaching over like the ribs of a bird cage.

Anything else is stripped away, to be replaced with a coat of fresh primer to cover up any other impurities. Aoi excels only because she knows the right smiles and right words to appease instructors enough to not try and chip past her skin.

Like a crack of thunder, "Yashiro Nene!" jolts Aoi from her thoughts. "What in Heaven's name did you do to your socks?!"

Along their line up, most of the girls turn to the offender-- who grimaces, quickly losing the straight-back posture she's meant to have to duck her head in shame. 

Aoi can't see the socks in question without bending out of line, but she doesn't have to wait long to get an idea of them: "The violets bloomed this morning!" Yashiro Nene rushes to explain, flustered from the sounds of it. "I really wanted to get a closer look, so I did-- but I remembered what you said last time, when I scratched up my shoes from the shrubs, so I took them off and--"

"So you walked in the dirt with just your socks?" Ms. Yako shrieks. 

"Yes?" squeaks Nene.

Ms. Yako trembles with an unbridled fury. And then comes the onslaught– Ms. Yako proceeds to scold Nene within an inch of her life, picking apart her ruffled blazer, the fraying hem of her skirt, the flower petal stuck to her fringe, and, despite her precaution, a scuff on the toe of her shoe. Not to mention the dirt still present in the creases of her palms, the chewed up nails upon each finger…

The list goes on and on. Once on a roll, Ms. Yako can rant for minutes on end. And when it comes to Yashiro Nene… well...

If instructors can have favorites, then they'll definitely have least favorites-- and, unfortunately for her, Yashiro Nene takes up that unofficial position. In the four months the semester's been in session, Yashiro Nene still has yet to pass a single inspection. 

All things considered, she's already leagues better than how she was before: on the first day of inspections, she forgot her blazer, had the last three buttons of her blouse undone, and had colorful doodles winding up her arms like tattoos. 

Ms. Yako had watched over her shoulder as she scrubbed her arms until they were bright pink, nearly the same color as the ink that was washed away.

With the lack of obvious impact on her, the administration seems to be scrambling on what to do. Truly, Nene isn't that bad-- she's just more outgoing than everyone else, more chatty, more eager. She doesn't even act out. When there's rules to follow, she follows. When there's things to be done, she does them. 

But of course, being a lady doesn't include climbing through the brush to get a closer look at a flower.

This time Aoi shuts her eyes, sighing. And, in an attempt to try and decide what to do with Nene before they declare she's helpless, since this godforsaken place only values how obedient they can make a girl, they've made the decision to move Nene into the vacant side of Aoi's dorm room.

Fundamentally she understands what the administration is trying to do. By putting Nene in the same room as one of their star students, they hope Aoi's good habits will rub off on her. Maybe they're hoping she will accept the responsibility of also trying to whip Nene into proper-lady-material outside of the classroom, too.

Privately, Aoi finds that bit to be the most annoying. The headmaster had pulled her aside this morning, smile so squeaky-clean it could nearly be plastic, to spring this sudden transfer upon her. Not a word of why Nene was transferring, or if she was even okay with this arrangement. Just that she now has a roommate, and that she should ' give Ms. Yashiro a little bit of a helping hand.' 

She'd rather chew on rocks. Being a pawn for this administration rubs her wrong in every which way. 

Not that she hates the idea of rooming with Nene, she knows it'll just… be interesting, simply put. Nene is so starkly different from Aoi that she has no idea how rooming with her will be. 

Aoi straightens her spine. It'll be fine. It will be.

______________

At seven fifty-two, someone knocks at Aoi's door. 

When she opens it, it's Yashiro Nene, twenty-two minutes late and panting.

"Sorry!" she bursts, frazzled, shuffling in with the largest suitcase Aoi's ever seen bursting at the seams, "I, uhm-- had more stuff than I thought, and I put off packing until the last minute-- I'm sorry I'm late! I still have to go back and grab some other stuff, but I'd figure I should just do multiple trips!"

Nene talks and moves like a whirlwind, her sentences beginning before they even end. She's constantly in motion, looking around, gesturing with her hands, shuffling on her feet. 

Aoi tries not to get swept up in it.

Before this, they had only orbited each other. In an academy so small, with each class consisting of the entire roster– it would be impossible to not be at least aware of everyone.

Ironically, the two of them are probably the most infamous. Two completely different ends of the spectrum, but infamous all the same. Aoi, to be celebrated, and Nene, to be berated.

Feebly, selfishly, she hopes Nene doesn't find it as an insult to be roomed with her. 

Dismissing the thought, Aoi clears her throat. "It's alright. Do you need any help?" she asks, to be polite. 

"Nope, I've got it covered!" Nene puffs, dragging in her suitcase rather than carrying it. With a great heave , she manages to swing it up onto the bed. The suitcase bounces on the mattress. Nene sags onto the bed next to it, groaning. Five seconds pass-- long enough that Aoi thinks Nene is going to stay there-- but then Nene snaps up, her mouth pursed with determination. When she hurries out the door, she leaves it open, steps echoing down the hall as she seemingly sprints to her old room.

With Nene out of the room, Aoi… doesn't know what to do with herself. She's already offered help, but since there's no need, she… would it be rude to go back to what she was doing?

Well. The thin booklet she had just finished rests on her side table, waiting to be checked out. She had planned on heading to the library eventually– it'll at least get her out of the room while Nene unpacks.

It's not fleeing, she reassures herself. Fleeing would mean that there's something to run from.

As Aoi puts all of her stationary and books into her satchel, Nene comes careening in with her other suitcase. This one she leaves by the bedside with a huff, takes a five second recollection of her breath, and unceremoniously plops onto the ground in front of her dresser tucked beneath the bed.

And… that's that. Nene starts unpacking, and Aoi stands to the side, feeling awkward. Her first roommate had only been enrolled for a month before being withdrawn. It wasn't quite long enough to learn the etiquette of having a roommate, especially for an only child like Aoi. 

"I'll… be in the library, if you need anything," Aoi starts, the words feeling clunky in her mouth. 

Nene looks up from where she's shoving clothes haphazardly into the drawers. "Oh! Okay!" she chirps, her hair falling in a frazzled mess around her face. "I'll see you later, then!"

The smile she gives Aoi is so unwarranted in its brightness. Aoi doesn't think she's ever been smiled at like this before, and doesn't know what to do with that information.

In return, she gives a smile that is so minuscule in comparison that it's almost pathetic before quickly fleeing. 

By the time Aoi returns, Nene has done everything short of renovating her side of the room. Posters and photocards are washi taped to the wall, crooked and unevenly spaced. Figurines, both humanoid and the silly blindbox animal variations, line the back of the desk. A pouch of colored pencils lays haphazardly half-way off the table, the pencils having rolled out from the opening.

Aoi literally did not know they were allowed to bring this much stuff to decorate. She side-eyes her clean cut desk, tidy and meticulous to where every book edge is parallel to the desk's edge. The stark difference between their desks is almost embarrassing– and it's on her part. 

What a way to show she's a stick in the mud: not having a single touch of personalization to her own desk.

Regardless, she finds Nene asleep with her cheek down on an open book, seated at her desk. Even though it's been less than a day, her desk is already a mess of assignments and books.

She doesn't move at all when Aoi leaves to wash up for bed. Nene surprisingly sleeps soundlessly. For someone as upbeat as her, Aoi would have thought she'd snore. Or drool, at least. 

Aoi shakes the thought from her head. Sleeping like that cannot be comfortable in the slightest, neck cricked, back bent. She reaches over to give Nene a slight shake of the shoulder.

Nene jolts, nearly snapping upright. A solid line cuts across her cheek from where it had been pressed up against the edge of a book, telling of how long she had been sleeping. "Euh, uhm–" Nene flounders, flailing, until she sees Aoi. She flushes a deep pink. "Uhm! H-Hi!"

"Hi," Aoi says back, lightly amused. "Sorry to wake you– I doubt that textbook is a nice pillow."

Somehow, Nene blushes even more, her hair flying as she whips her head back around to ogle at the pages. "Oh my god," she whispers to the text. In a flurry of movement, she leaps to her feet, slapping the book shut, rubbing her cheeks furiously– either to smooth out the book-crease on her face or to try and keep the color from her face. "Oh my god. This is so embarrassing…"

Aoi wants to reassure that it's not, because she's definitely drifted off to sleep while studying herself, but Nene is already moving on. She's quick to gather bed clothes and a toothbrush before dashing out the door, presumably to the bathroom.

A sigh nearly breaks through her lips. She presses them into a line instead, put off.

Nene returns soon after, the hair around the edges of her face damp and her cheeks back to their normal color. Recollected. "Thanks," she says, laughing, "I always end up falling asleep when studying! You won't believe how sore your neck gets from just a nap on a book!

She can imagine. Briefly, she wonders if this will be a common occurrence– Aoi having to shake Nene awake, her face pressed against her desk. She wonders if it was something her previous roommate did, too, or if they just left her there.

"Is it alright if I leave the light on?" Aoi asks instead, glancing at the lamp. It's not particularly bright, but it does reside between their beds. "I won't be up much longer– I just wanted to finish this chapter, but I can do it later…" She raises the book in question from where it rested on her lap.

"No worries," Nene says pleasantly, waving it off. "Sleeping with the light on doesn't bother me."

Before Aoi can parse that out, Nene clamors onto her bed. Against Nene's pillows is a small plush hamster that she didn't see before. When she finally settles under the covers, she makes sure that the plush's face is also open to the air, resting against the pillow next to her.

Aoi forces herself to look away.

"G'night, Aoi," Nene murmurs, muffled by her blankets.

"... Goodnight," she says back to the air.

______________

Just like the rest of Eden Academy, the gardens are flawlessly maintained, pruned, and made solely for presentation. Topiaries are spaced out within the garden's limits, as well as a wall of hedges to divide the space into sections. In the dead center is a three-tier fountain with baroque statues as its base, water glittering and clean. Wrought-iron benches can be found throughout the gardens, set only a foot away from the cobblestone. 

For all the grief she privately gives the over-the-top-ness of the academy, Aoi absolutely loves the gardens. 

It's the only oasis she finds in this boarding school. Something about the tranquility of the gardens is entrancing– it's easy to lose time in them, sitting upon a bench, soaking in the sun.

She tries to spend any moment she can out here. During individual study, she'll drift out to a bench to lay a book across her lap. After dinner, when they're allowed to wander, she'll stroll along the pathway, admiring the fresh blooms. And sometimes, when lunch is more of a finger-food rather than something she'll need knives and forks for, she'll post up near the fountain and close her eyes against the mist.

It's a shame the garden's a part of Eden. The things she would give just to be able to stay out here, or to be out here anytime she wants…

Aoi sighs, leaning further back into the bench. Today, Mr. Nagisa graciously released them early from his lesson, cheering about the good weather. Not many of her peers took the opportunity to come outside as well– for a bunch of girls to become as 'delicate as a flower', they sure don't bother to see flowers outside.

Regardless, she's meandered to one of her favorite benches on the outskirts of the garden, just below a sprawling oak tree that is much older than the academy itself. There isn't much time left between the next class– probably less than fifteen minutes, now– but Aoi's not going to let the chance of being out here slip through her fingers.

So she revels in it, closing her eyes with her hands clasped in her lap. Mr. Nagisa was right– the weather is pleasantly mild, warm, with the slightest of breeze pulling against her hair and rustling the leaves above her. If it weren't for the fact that there's another class period ahead, she could fall asleep out here.

"Oh! Aoi!"

Damn. Just when she thought she could have some peace. Aoi straightens out almost immediately, disengaging so smoothly that it's almost second nature. 

The sun casts a halo around the visitor, which leads Aoi to squinting against the light to parse out their face. She knows squinting is a poor expression to have but it's unavoidable here, at least not until they shift closer, under the shade of the oak.

"Nene," Aoi greets, keeping the surprise from her voice. 

It– shouldn't be all that surprising for Nene to be out here, too. Seeing that she's taken at least seven recorded and noted trips traipsing through the garden for flowers, it's likely that Nene's favorite place on campus is also the gardens.

She just… never would have thought Nene would call out for her.

Rooming with Nene hasn't changed much so far. They haven't interacted outside of their shared room yet– Aoi's still the star student, and Nene's still the opposite. Aoi will briefly see her in the dining room for each meal of the day, but aside from that, Aoi does her own thing in her free time, and she assumes Nene does the same.

It's… a little strange, perhaps. When Nene falls asleep during literature, Aoi knows it's from how long she spent up scribbling at the workbook rather from incompetence as the instructors assume. When Ms. Yako scolds her for a stain on her skirt, Aoi remembers the forlorn expression that briefly crossed Nene's face when she realized that there wasn't enough time to run it through the laundry the night before.

For all the grief that she gets, Nene is… just another girl. She's trying. It's not like she's a helpless case.

It makes Aoi feel a little worse every time she's praised by an instructor in the same period that Nene is picked upon. She really, really hopes Nene doesn't think that Aoi feels the same as the instructors when it comes to Nene's shortcomings.

Regardless, Nene carefully steps closer to the bench with a sheepish smile, a respectable distance from Aoi. "Hi! Hey, uhm, sorry to bother you," she says, awkward, like she knows she's encroaching on Aoi's space, "I, uhh, just wanted to make sure you got this back…"

And she's being handed a small book. Aoi blinks, confused, and gingerly takes it from Nene– oh. Masterpieces of Terror and the Supernatural. She recently picked it up from the library. It's one of the few ghost story collections she hasn't read yet; she wanted to read the individual ghost story books before she cracked open a collection, and, well… she's finally exhausted the solo books.

"You left this behind in class," Nene supplies, expression openly curious.

Ah. Must've slipped from her bag. In her haste to go to the gardens, it probably got left behind– it was closer to the opening of her bag since she had been peering at the cover of the book, tracing the straggling font of the title. 

"Thank you," she says. After a cursory glance about its condition, she slips it back into the bag resting at her side. 

To her surprise, Nene doesn't leave immediately. "Do you… like ghost stories?" Nene asks like she's treading cautiously. Aoi blinks at the sound of it.

It's…  almost a foreign feeling, having someone ask what she likes. No one particularly wants to hang out with her, more-less be around her, so no one really knows anything about her. There's a glass wall between her and all of her peers– one that has holes poked in it, so that they're able to exchange pleasantries and small talk, but to never get close to each other. 

Not that Aoi wants to get close. As much as they're all in the same boat at this institute, the other girls don't like her, and she doesn't like them back. Being taught to be elegant and high class ends up creating some haunty personalities. 

But here Nene is. Nene, who hasn't let a single berating get under her skin, who still keeps her charming weirdness regardless of how much she's scolded for it.

"Oh, they're fun," Aoi says belatedly. It's definitely considered one of the 'stranger' things about her– the influx of ghost stories and horror novels she checks out from the library makes the librarian raise her thin eyebrow. Honestly, she's surprised that there's even books in the library that aren't solely educational or especially curated stories of women being obedient wives. "It's what I usually read before bed."

At this, Nene gasps, eyes going wide. "Before bed?" she shrieks, "I was always wondering what you were reading, but I never thought– how do you even get sleep?"

Something tickles at the back of Aoi's throat, something a little like laughter. A small smile pulls at her lips when she speaks. "They don't really scare me." Then, because the answer's a little obvious, "Are you scared of ghosts?"

Like she suspected, the answering wince is telling. "Not– not really, " she says, wringing her wrists, "I can handle them during daytime, but… but once it's dark out, they really give me the heebie-jeebies."

Heebie-jeebies. That's absolutely adorable. 

"I suppose these old hallways are particularly cultivating for ghosts, too," Aoi says casually, trying for a joking tone. Once again, Nene reacts exactly how Aoi expects– she grimaces, shivering visibly.

"They're the worst!" Nene whines. She lowers herself onto the other side of Aoi's bench, rubbing at her eyes as she complains. "I love ghost stories, but every time I turn the corner in the dorm I swear the Crooked Lady is going to be there to nab me! It's exactly the kind of halls that are described in the story!"

Now that she thinks about it– she supposes they are quite similar. The dorm's floors are an older wood that creaks with every other step. The halls are long chutes, fairly similar to the tale's endless halls.

"Well," Aoi smiles, laughing a little, "at least we're not twelve, since that's usually the age that the Crooked Lady likes to grab."

Nene's eyes shine when she peeks through her fingers. "Literally! It's the only thing that keeps me from screaming every time I go to the bathroom at night…" She unfolds from her position, resting back against the bench. A worldly sigh comes from her. "It's honestly just a saving grace that rather than ghosts, I think it's just that the paintings are haunted."

A snort bursts from Aoi, surprising the both of them. Aoi coughs to cover it, hoping her ears aren't burning visibly. "Oh, without a doubt," she says, "Founder Regulus Eden's eyes definitely follow you when you walk by it."

"Right!" Nene exclaims, once again full of energy, like she's finally found someone who thinks the same, "Right! I've been saying that forever, and no one believes me! That portrait has a vendetta against me, I swear!"

The entire hall of prior headmaster's portraits always gave such an awful condescending atmosphere to it. It's one of the halls that lead from the dorms to the main academy building, so every morning and night you get to feel the pressure of hundreds of years old judgment and assessment. 

"I like to ignore his portrait in particular," Aoi says airily, "He can judge me all he wants– he was a pompous, classist idiot who spoke to his kin like they were lower than him, so I don't really care what he has to say."

Nene chokes a little bit, but blinks in revelation like the pieces of a puzzle have come together. "He was?" She scratches at her chin. "That makes so much sense! No one with that kind of powdered wig can be nice."

"Exactly the kind of fellow to make an academy like this, it seems," Aoi says clearly instead of muttering like she wants. She winces after. That wasn't a bright thing to say. Shows a little bit too much of her grudge against this place. If an instructor heard those words, they would probably scold her into the next semester.

But Nene only blinks. Her mouth opens to speak, but the distant toll of the bell cuts her off. 

Whatever she was about to say, she ends up withholding it– simply shrugs, reshouldering her bag, and rising to her feet. "You also have Mr. Tsuchigomori next, right?" she asks.

Aoi's slower to rise. She's expecting to mourn that her peace had been cut short, but she finds that she doesn't mind much. "I do," she confirms, almost puzzled. 

Nene frowns in a way that's almost a pout. Looking side to side, as if checking for anyone else listening, she whispers, "If there's anyone at the academy who gives me 'possessed' vibes, it's him." 

Biting her tongue to keep down another snort, Aoi nods conspiratorially. "You've noticed that he moves strangely, too, huh."

When they arrive to class together, Mr. Tsuchigomori gives them a long, curious look, and so does everyone else. It doesn't seem to bring up any issue, so Mr. Tsuchigomori turns back to the board, chalk in hand, and when the two of them catch each other's eyes from across the room when he simultaneously reads from a book and writes on the board in a peculiar way– well, no one catches the gleam in their eyes.

______________

One night, Nene doesn't come back after dinner. 

Not that it's unusual; Nene usually meanders back to their room an hour or two after the dining hall hours end. What she does during this time, Aoi doesn't know– it doesn't seem to always be the same thing. Sometimes she'll come in with the cuffs of her blouse still wet, most likely from the near eternal dish duty she's put under as general punishment. Then there's the times where she comes in with cobwebs in her hair or grime smeared across her face. 

Regardless of what Nene does, she always comes back with plenty of time to putter around her desk, fall asleep at least once, wake up enough to sleepily redress for bed, and resume sleeping properly, all before curfew and before quiet hours. It's routine, even for someone as spontaneous as Nene.

But today… today, as minutes tick towards nine o'clock, there has been no sign of Nene at all.

It's probably nothing , Aoi thinks, oddly restless. The paperback in her hand cracks along the spine, to which she quickly relaxes her abuse of. She tries to read further along the page. Forces herself to focus.

But she isn't back. She isn't back, as Aoi hears bids of good nights and doors closing down the hall. The instructor on monitor duty walks past the doors at nine-thirty, just before the lights in the halls go out. And Nene still isn't back.

Aoi taps her fingers along the edge of the book she hasn't turned a page in for the past ten minutes. Nene's never done something like this before-- at least, never as she's been Aoi's roommate. Albeit it hasn't been long, but Nene doesn't really seem to be the kind to do that kind of rule breaking. 

So-- so maybe something's happened to her. 

That might be it. It probably is. Aoi sets her book down beside her. 

Does she go look for the instructor who went by earlier? What would they do after that? How would they even find Nene? The academy's massive, and seeing that Nene's exploring places that are probably abandoned– how else would she get cobwebs strung up on her-- there's no telling where she would be.

Ah. That would mean fetching and telling the instructor that Nene is breaking curfew. And, by extension, probably in areas of the academy she's not meant to be in.

She picks her book back up restlessly. 

Nene always comes back from her adventures. She's curious to a fault, but Aoi's never seen her do anything that was particularly reckless. Anything she does that strikes the ire of an instructor is just because Nene doesn't do things in the pristine way they want her to. She doesn't particularly break rules. 

Wrapped up in her thoughts, she jolts hard enough her teeth crack together when the door creaks open, slow enough that Aoi immediately thinks intruder. She rears back her book, and holds.

Slipping in with bare feet-- is Nene. 

She presses close to the wall, like she's actually sneaking in. Something rustles, brushing against the frame as she slides in, but Aoi can't quite see what it is with Nene's back to her. Carefully and slowly, Nene presses the door shut without a noise.

For a moment or three, she's absolutely motionless, still in a sneak mode. Then she exhales with her whole body. 

Oddly, Aoi feels retribution for her own fright when Nene does a whole-bodied jump when she looks up and meets Aoi's. 

"Aoi! Sorry-- you startled me!" Nene stage-whispers, toeing further into the room. Aoi was right– there is an undefinable bundle in her arms. Upon stepping up to her desk, she awkwardly lets everything tumble from her arms to the table top, and drops her shoes with the socks shoved in them on the floor. "Sorry," she apologizes again, "I hope I didn't wake you or anything!"

With no obvious sign of anything wrong, the worry that had squeezed her lungs finally ebbs away. "You didn't," Aoi says, neutrally, slipping off her bed. She doubts that she could have even slept, fretting about where Nene was and what she had gotten herself into.

Nene blinks at her, head tilted. Like she knows that Aoi had more to say. Maybe her fretting isn't as concealed as she thought it was…

"Er," Aoi fumbles, feeling silly for the tizzy she spurred herself into. "I just… was a little worried, since you hadn't come back before curfew."

"Oh!" Nene smiles, busying herself by pulling her hair out of loose pigtails, "Oh, no worries. I didn't mean to take so long, either! I really lost track of time, so by the time I started heading back, it was already late…" 

She frowns. Her nose scrunches with the expression, eyebrows furrowed, and it's so cute that she doesn't even seem upset. "I wish I could have stayed longer, honestly, but this!" she abruptly twirls to her desk, gathering the bundle she had dropped there earlier, " this is totally worth it!"

In Nene's arms are… flowers. A complete array of flowers. Aoi holds back a grimace; she couldn't tell what they were earlier because the flowers are wrapped in Nene's uniform blazer as a poor substitute for wrapping paper. But now that Aoi can see them so closely–

The dogwood, daylilies, and hostas are a familiar sight; they're integrated into the landscaping, breaking the monotony of the near-obnoxiously abundant topiaries towards the front entrance of the academy. The gardenias, she's pretty sure, are more along the back of the building, in tufts along the windows. 

But then there's a shock of pink– two kinds of pink flowers. Rhododendron and azaleas. Both of which are not anywhere on academy grounds.

"Where did you get these?" She asks, stunned. She wants to reach out and rub a petal between her fingers, feel the velvet she knows that they are, but she keeps her wrists pinned to her side.

"In the gardens," Nene says, which is a bold-faced lie. She smiles sheepishly, caught, since she's probably aware that Aoi knows far too much about the gardens– it's the only place she likes being at, so of course she'd be well acquainted with the fact that these flowers are not there. 

Aoi fails to smother a little huff of laughter. Nene's own smile grows a little bit more confident as she leans closer to Aoi, stage whispering, "They're actually in the woods by the horse stables! I saw them after Buttercup threw me off, last lesson!"

That day, Nene has walked in, the white of her uniform nearly terracotta with the dusting of the track dirt. Aoi had tried not to stare too long-- the rip in her stocking revealed the bloody, scabbing mess of her knee, and the paths of clear skin running from her eye to her chin implying that the fall had been as painful as it looks-- but Nene had seen her anyways. And, instead of grimacing, Nene had brightened, somehow excited as she had told her she had been bucked off of a horse.

Aoi had wondered how Nene managed to perk up, even after something that was a little awful. It all makes sense, now, especially with the way Nene is.

They're quite similar, it seems. If Aoi herself had caught a glimpse of those flowers, she, too, would have thought about them all day. 

But then that's where they're different: Aoi would have only tried stealing glimpses of them whenever possible. Nene took matters into her own hands. 

"They're lovely," Aoi murmurs. She would have never known they were here on campus.

Curiously, Nene flushes. She steps back– Aoi hadn't even noticed how close they were to each other– carefully laying the bundle back onto her desk. "Yeah! I really, er, wanted to see them together with the gardenias!" When unfolding her blazer-wrapping, she grimaces. When Aoi peers over, the smears of dirt splotch the blazer's lining. Those are going to be tricky to get out, if not treated when fresh.

Nene hesitates, here. She glances around her abyss of a desktop. There's no hint of what she's looking for– not until the gingerly re-wraps the flowers with the blazer sleeves. 

"Oh," Aoi says, surprising herself, as the pieces connect, "do you need a vase?"

When Nene turns to her, there's surprise on her face, her eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. There's surprise, and a little bit of hope. "Do you have one?" 

She doesn't. At least, not a proper vase. Nothing would be lovelier than to have fresh flowers in one of the elegant crystal vases that she used to admire back at home, but anything that wasn't useful to her education here simply wasn't brought with her. 

One thing that did come along with her was a tall pencil holder. 

She doesn't really know what comes over her, but the idea of all of those flowers, lovingly picked and carefully arranged, having been snuck through the width of the lawns and down the monitored halls… Aoi takes three long steps to her desk, grabs hold of the pencil holder, and upturns it. The pencils and pens clatter on the table top, only held up from rolling straight off by Aoi's hand.

"This should probably be tall enough, if we cut the stems," she says, tapping the bottom to shake out any debris stuck to the inside of the cup. Once satisfied, she turns and offers it to Nene, who, she only realizes now, hasn't moved an inch and is gaping at her. 

The two of them hold still. Long enough that the absurdity of Aoi stomping forward and pouring out all of her pencils onto her desk finally makes Aoi's face feel hot in the way that she knows she's blushing. 

Before she can rescind her offer and promptly overthink everything for the next few days, Nene reaches out and takes hold of the cup, but doesn't take it from her hands. "Are– Are you sure?" Nene stammers, still stunned. She glances at the mess that now covers Aoi's desk. "I mean, your pencils…"

"It's no worries," Aoi says, assured in the way she doesn't feel, letting go of the cup so Nene has to take it. "I have a pencil pouch to put them in. I don't mind using it for the flowers. It's just a shame I don't have anything prettier to offer."

And, slowly, the shy uncertainty fades away, a smile blooming on Nene's face. 

"No, this is perfect!" she beams. With a sunny bounce in her step, she rifles through her desk to procure a pair of scissors. Her excitement is infectious as she turns to Aoi. "If you wouldn't mind, could you get some water for it?"

And after hurrying to the communal bathrooms to fill the cup with water and fussing with the stem lengths so that the cup won't topple over, the flowers form a charming bouquet together. A little mismatched and busy, but lovely all the same.

"Do you mind if we keep it on your desk? Since then it won't be drowning in a mess," Nene jokes, eyes bright. She hasn't stopped smiling since they started. 

Aoi's heart does a little flutter, like butterfly wings caught in her chest. 

The flower vase takes position in the empty left hand corner of her desk. A bright pop of pink and white and red against the crisp muted tones of Aoi's stationary. Even though it's rough around the edges, with its substitute vase and with some of the flower heads squished together, it's the best thing she's ever seen.

______________

When Aoi walks into their room after dinner to find Nene on all fours, reaching deep beneath her bed, she tries not to be particularly concerned.

"Are you… okay?" Aoi asks, dropping her bag into her chair cautiously. Although Nene does some strange things, they're usually all they are– just strange. She just. Can't image what she's halfway under the bed for.

A crack– Nene yelps and Aoi winces, knowing she just cracked her head into the bedframe.

"Ah! Er, hi, Aoi!" Nene calls, squirming out from underneath the frame. She's rubbing at the back of her head with one hand, embarrassed, but she's also dragging something else out with her. "Yeah– yeah, I'm fine, I was just getting this! I guess I pushed it too far underneath whenever I put it here…"

It's a… shoe-box covered in stickers. When she flips open the top, a handful of cassette tapes slide haphazardly to the ground, having only been kept in the box by the inch of the lid's height.

Aoi steps closer, curious, as Nene dives back under for another item. Some tapes are in cases with printed labels, obviously bought from a store, with names like Don Henley and A-ha. Others don't have a case and are labeled individually with Nene's looping handwriting.

"A ha!" Nene cheers, which almost makes Aoi snort with laughter. "Finally! I got it!" When she climbs out from the dark, she shows her boon to Aoi, excited.

Bright pink with accents of light grey, Nene's cassette player shows the love it's been shown. Stickers similar to the ones on the cassette box adorn the player as well, but are marginally more rubbed off. The transparent case that lends view to the cassette tapes themselves is buffed; it's nearly translucent with the amount of scratches it has. 

"Are we even allowed to have those...?" Aoi wonders aloud, watching as Nene pops the case open and removes the cassette. 

Shrugging cheerfully, Nene chirps, "No idea!" She motions for Aoi to join her on the floor, scooting back to the box. Individually she pulls out each tape, humming approvingly at some, and setting them aside.

Aoi carefully lowers herself to the floor, picking up a tape from what she assumes is the 'Good' pile. The plastic case is black, with the words "ABBA" and "GOLD" across the front. When she pops the case open, the tape inside is transparent, save for the reels and black label on the tape itself.

Briefly, she wonders how Nene even managed to sneak in such a large amount of tapes. Their belongings aren't checked or anything when they first move in, but the amount of tapes Nene has is quite staggering, considering that she probably hid it all away in one suitcase. 

And how dedicated she is-- to bring so many, she must love every single one of them. Couldn't bear to part with any.

"Hey, is there any genre you like in particular?" Nene asks distractedly. The 'Good' pile is increasing fairly rapidly. At this rate, she may as well just pull all of them out and into the pile. "I don't know if I'll have any musician you name, but I have tons of tapes! There will definitely be something you like!"

Aoi blinks. "I don't..." listen to music, she thinks about finishing with. Something like embarrassment squeezes her chest before she can, because of course, some elite, home-schooled kid like her would be above listening to music-- so she clears her throat and says instead, "I don't have a preference."

There was no gramophone, record player, or cassette player in the Akane household. The lacking presence of them made the sharp footsteps echo through the halls all the more. Aoi had been curious about it before, of course, but the interest had petered out as time went on and there were no chances to listen. Even nowadays, with the ability to click the cassettes into the library rented players and listen and rewind and listen again– Aoi hasn't found any interest.

Sharp in her sternum, she remembers the gap between the two of them. Just how different she is from Nene.

Either obvious to the pause or polite enough to overlook it, Nene looks up from the tape she's been deliberating over. Her smile is gummy, twinkling. "I can play my favorites for you, then!"

Her favorites. Nene gives and gives and gives. High in her chest, Aoi feels honored that she's the one that Nene has found worthy of it. That Nene looked at Aoi and trusted her enough to hand over these gifts.

Aoi's just worried she's going to give all of herself away. Down to the bits and pieces.

"Oh," she starts out of politeness, regardless of how much her heart is pounding, "You don't have to--" 

And– Nene slows to a halt, her fingers curling in on the tape in her hands, labeled 'Absolute FAVORITES!!' in glitter pen with looping hearts and flowers around it. Aoi catches a glimpse of Nene's face, a glimpse of a heartbreak, before a curtain draws over it.

"Ah! Er, my bad," Nene says, her smile falling at the edges. Withdrawing. "I shoulda asked if you even wanted to listen at all-- I know it's kinda noise pollution…"

Her shoulders drop lower, like a flower wilting. Yet, as she still manages to smile, her gleaming excitement has been neatly packed up and stowed away, out of sight.

Guilt washes over her, a waterfall. Aoi wants to turn back time five seconds and sew her own mouth shut. Wants to go even further back to find that old roommate of Nene's and pummel them, since she's got the inkling that this has happened before but was only met with dismissal, disgust. 

The– the look of shame on Nene's face– 

"No!" bursts from Aoi, panicked. Both of them freeze, time-stopped, as if the slightest of movement would undo everything before their eyes. 

Christ. She didn't mean for this to happen. She has to salvage this. Has to. Shakily, she clears her throat, but it doesn't get rid of the squeeze. "Uhm. I mean. I…"

Back when she was younger, much, much younger, and was allowed to be a kid, she used to do anything she put her mind to. As long as it was interesting or a dare, she'd do it.

One of which was jumping into the lazy river from the stone bridge in town. 

The murky water of the river was only a few feet from the bridge's bottom, the current so slow the ripples of the water were nearly non-existent. She knew that the river was deep enough that there was no worry about hitting anything prematurely, no where to accidentally crash into and shatter bone. 

All she needed to do was jump and swim.

The boy she used to be friends with, Akane, was the reason they were in that situation, and nearly begged her to ignore the dare he had made. He, unlike Aoi, wasn't all that brave. He stood further back on the bridge, fisting the fabric of his shirt, and tried to plead with her until she took him seriously.

The water's too deep. The current is too strong, he'd say. At some point, he was simply just saying things, anything, in the hope it would dissuade her. The fall is too much. Come on. Please.  

She had scoffed, but when her limbs locked into place, toes just barely off of the stone lip, she was worried she wasn't all that brave, too. 

The water was scary. If she forgot how to swim, she'd sink like a pebble. If the current was stronger than it looked, she'd be cast down the river to wash up God knows where. Something lied just beneath its surface, masquerading in the deep blue.

But then she had breathed in. Held it in her chest until it started to burn, to fray the edges of her lungs. Let it out. Dug her fingernails into her palms. And then she jumped. 

Aoi now breathes in. Holds it in. 

Patiently, Nene waits, waits for an answer, the thin line of her mouth trembling. She clutches the tape in her hands, the skin at her joints white. Nervous, earth shatteringly nervous. But still waiting for Aoi. 

Nene gives so much. So, so much. Doesn't even think to hesitate about it. 

It'd only be fair to give something back. 

Her fingernails bite into the meat of her hands. She forcibly smooths them out against her skirt. "I.. I don't listen to music often. Ever," she makes herself say, fighting against the instinct to keep her mouth shut, to never say these kinds of things. They're not becoming of a lady; a lady doesn't say a damn thing about how she is or what she likes. "It wasn't something my mother found… important. I don't have a favorite song or anything. I…"

Eyes wide, Nene's looking at her, her expression caught between so many things Aoi can't catch a gleam of what it could be. She has to look away before she loses her nerve. "I mean… I'd– I'd love to listen. If. If you'll have me," she peeters out, breathless.

It shouldn't be so hard to say. She misses when she didn't have to watch her tongue with such ferocity– having to watch every word she said, having to filter it, has become a goddamn instinct at this point. Sharing things about herself feels more like carving a cube of her skin out– she has to grind her teeth together and wield the knife herself. 

But, in front of Nene, she wants to be able to say things just as freely. Wants to give just as much, and not feel the wound fester for weeks after. 

When a pair of soft hands rest on her own, Aoi jolts, strung tight. Honey-sweet, Nene's eyes are the softest she's ever seen them.

"Then," Nene says, like a rising dawn, "let's find your favorite song."

______________

The oncoming days are the best Aoi's ever had since she started attending Eden. 

In academic lessons, where Mr. Tsuchigomori stands with a backdrop of chalk-dusted board reading an excerpt, Nene nudges her chair with her shoe. Aoi glances-- a small wedge of paper is pushed her way, under the guise of Nene swiping away eraser shavings. Unfolding the creases reveals an artistically rendered fox, chewing on what seems to be a cartoon interpretation of Mr. Tsuchigomori. 

Aoi has to swallow her snort. She misses the next three lines of notes in exchange for drawing a crude piranha chewing on his arm. 

Nene does snort out loud. Her punishment is to read the next passage, but the second she's done and Mr. Tsuchigomori starts up again, she doodles and passes back a cat doing a handstand. 

At seven-on-the-dot, Aoi slips into her seat, across the grand mahogany table from Nene. The dining hall is silent aside from the shuffling to their proper seats, the clinking of their dishware being put into place. 

At no point does Nene pull back her feet from where they nudge Aoi's, nor does she try not to smile or make a face whenever Aoi makes eye contact with her. Aoi bites her tongue to keep a stoic expression, but Nene's eyes crinkle and her nose scrunches and it's so cute that she can't really help the smallest grin from her lips.

In sneaking moments, Aoi folds the napkin across her lap into a crooked off-shoot of a swan. It's awfully sad looking– which is fair, considering Aoi had only practiced origami once before and had nearly forgotten most of the steps. 

When she drops it onto the floor and passes it closer to Nene with her foot, she signals her to look with an exaggerated glance downwards. Nene unsuspectingly lifts the table cloth and looks. 

Her eyes gleam. In a way that is so conspicuous in its attempt to be inconspicuous, she looks side to side, reassuring that the instructor isn't looking, and then slides down infestismally in her seat. With a quick duck down, she reemerges and winks at Aoi. A quick flash of the crumpled swan head confirms she has it in her hands.

The main dish ends up being a beef wellington with roasted vegetables, elevated to be more pretty than appetizing. For the actual mealtime, they dine like normal, but Aoi catches a particularly cheeky look in Nene's eyes. In discreet glances, she watches as Nene mashes the potatoes and carefully sculpts it. 

Another glance around– then she lifts the plate slightly to Aoi. The potatoes are in the shape of a teddy bear's head. 

Aoi covers her smile with a well timed sip of water. She squishes a carrot, using the fork tongs to shape a bowtie. Feeling daring, Aoi keeps watch of the instructor, and quickly reaches across the table to drop the bowtie-carrot onto Nene's plate. 

Nene absolutely lights up. She puts the bowtie on the potato-bear accordingly. When she lifts her plate again, Aoi flashes her a thumbs up– putting down just in time for the instructor to glance her way.

Their peers, prim and properly eating the meal, knife-in-left-hand-and-fork-in-right-hand, look at Aoi like she's lost her mind. 

When they're not in the gardens together, they're in the plush chairs tucked in the library. The librarian doesn't mind them chattering as long as there's no one actively near them studying, which means they're regulated to just writing small notes on the margins of notebooks to each other. 

Nene isn't as much of a reader as Aoi, so when Aoi settles down with a new book to read, she steps through the isles looking for any book spine that sounds interesting enough to be pulled out. Usually, they're books full of pictures– Nene pulls out notebook paper for these, and tries to copy what's already on the pages. Sometimes she forgoes the paper and draws straight on the back of her palms when the colorful pens she's brought.

Aoi only hesitates for a moment before she leans over the herbarium Nene's pulled out, finger shyly pressed below the image of a poppy. 

A bright cardinal red, the resulting poppy drawing curls around her wrist, hidden just so by the cuff of her blouse. She still gets caught– not that she cares. Ogling at it in the middle of class isn't exactly being sneaky, but she doesn't want to be sneaky in the slightest. Why should she hide something so pretty? So precious?

The only regret she has is that as a result of being caught, she has to wash it off. 

More often than not, she's side by side with Nene at the sinks, scrubbing away at something to get it to the pristine clean that the staff wants. It nearly becomes a bi-weekly ritual.

Aoi's never been good at cleaning things– she's never had to be good, since she's habitually a neat and tidy person, and always had the option of someone else doing it for her. But she's apparently bad enough at it that Nene takes the time to peer over and laugh, sometimes fully in stitches, at just how poorly she's doing. 

It's more than enough to have Nene recover from the slumps she'll get into, when Aoi smears her clothes with the same amount of dirt and Nene's face scrunches, saying No, no wait– you don't have to do that for me. Just from Nene's nature, she's going to get some kind of grime since she isn't limited by things like being presentable or what deems as proper. It usually lands her at being much more mussed up than Aoi, and Aoi kind of hates it. So she makes sure they're even.

Aoi's glad she could give her that– that she can stay by her side when Nene's had to do this all alone before. Glad that she can make her laugh instead of spiraling in the rhythmic silence of washing. 

Besides– she thinks she likes the feeling of ruining something now. Of taking a handful of dirt and coloring the pristine clean into an earthy tone. She could get used to it.

Curfew is no longer a thing that Aoi follows like a clockwork. Once they carefully listen for the night monitor passing by, they sidle together, knees knocking into each other, to file through Nene's cassettes to play at the lowest volume, or to dig into another booklet of ghost stories that Aoi's rented from the library to wonder if they're real or not.

Sometimes they fall asleep like that– with their backs against pillows, Nene's usually the first one out, head resting on Aoi's shoulder, her plush hamster that Aoi now knows is named Black Canyon tucked in her arms. 

Aoi never has the heart to wake her up and move her. So she usually ends up pulling the covers up to their chins, and falling asleep, just like that.

Every moment she has, she tries to spend it with Nene. Every class, every meal, every free period. She's never been so close with anyone before– never had this much fun before.

And– with a warmth in her heart, an excitement bubbling in her chest– she thinks Nene feels the same.

______________

In the middle of the night, Aoi is shaken awake. With the curtains to their room peeled back, the whole world is covered in a navy blue. It takes Aoi a couple of blinks to focus on Nene, who leans at the edge of her bed with stars in her eyes. 

Nene's quiet giggle almost feels like a part of a dream. "Hey, sleepy-head," she says, eyes curved into crescent moons. 

Blurry from sleep, Aoi can only blearily blink at her. "Good… morning?" Aoi says, slow, even though the sun rises at seven. She rolls to catch the sight of her alarm clock. It's a little past one in the morning.

"Sorry, I know it's late-- early? Either way," Nene leads on, quiet– any louder and she may pop the bubble over the night silence. "I was gonna head to the gardens," she whispers conspiratorially, "since it's a full moon tonight! Whenever the moon's out, it almost feels like a different world out there! And the stars are so bright… do–" she falters, a little shy, "--do you want to come with me?"

Aoi has never wanted something more in her life. Never, even when she was finally sentenced to a life indoors to learn etiquette and socialisms, when all she wanted to do was roll in the dirt and look for ladybugs. 

Sleep still stubbornly pulls at the corners of her eyes, but Aoi scrubs them away, rolling upright to throw her legs off the side of her bed. "Of– Of course!" she rushes to say, words tumbling out. 

As much as it deeply scares her to be caught sneaking by faculty, she wouldn't miss this chance for anything in the world. 

Although it's irrational to think it, but she's sure her heart's pounding loud enough to get them caught. 

From the second she threw her legs off her bed and stood up, the thrumming started, louder and louder. We're really doing it, she had thought, following Nene to their room door after they had gathered their cardigans and tugged socks on, we're sneaking out . Nene had eased the door open, still cautious even though after a certain hour the instructor monitoring heads off to bed. Then, with a brief check both ways, Nene stepped out into the hall, motioning her to follow.

She's trembling, she realizes. A slight shake in her hands, her chest so tight that the muscles quake. 

In the last few weeks she's cared less and less about following the strict guidelines that have nearly been branded into her. No longer is she worried about all of the idiosyncrasies of etiquette, of her uniform being in pristine condition, or keeping her words well mannered and articulate. Getting into trouble over that is essentially a slap on the wrist– but here and now, the real threat of being caught sneaking past curfew, sneaking outside, puts a lead bullet in her chest, almost outweighing any excitement she feels. 

What would the punishment be for sneaking out? She'd imagine it'd be more than just a week of dish-duty. A call to the parents? Expulsion? 

It's fine, she forces over her thoughts. Nene has never been caught before. We won't be caught. 

The further they creep down the halls, the more she realizes it's a miracle, really, that Nene hasn't been caught before. The academy building itself is immensely historic; it does not let its age go unknown, floor boards groaning with the shifting of weight, doors creaking on dehydrated hinges with the slightest brush of air. Even a specter could be caught with how much of a warning the building gives upon a presence.

Each noise-- groan, crack, creak-- prickles along the back of Aoi's neck. She jerks to look in the direction of each sound, so on edge that she feels she's going to pop out of her skin.

Someone could be peering from the hallway. Or in that shadow. She can't be sure. It doesn't look like there is, but something made a noise that way, and–

–and, carefully, a hand slips into her own. 

Aoi's heart leaps into her throat. She can dimly see Nene's knowing smile– there's nothing accusing or annoyed in it, which is so, so kind of her. 

And. And she feels a minute tremor to Nene's hand. When she looks back up to Nene's face, she sees it now. Nene's a little terrified, too. 

A squeeze on her hand-- it's alright. 

Even though she's scared, probably more scared than Aoi since she also fears ghosts and these halls are far too old not to have ghosts in them, she's still reassuring Aoi. 

And Aoi believes her. There isn't anything to be so scared of. If Nene can creep through halls that terrify her, then… then Aoi can too. 

Although it takes a couple of steady breaths to be sure, Aoi nods, and Nene gently tugs her further down the hall with their hands clasped together. 

Still, at every noise, she grips Nene's hand tighter, trying to keep her heart from spilling out. It feels ridiculous, she knows it's ridiculous, being so frightened of each sound; especially when Nene doesn't flinch or jolt in the slightest. 

But with every reassuring squeeze back, each reassuring grin flashed her way– even though the urge to hide away is overwhelming, she steels her nerves, and keeps going. 

Nene eventually tugs her towards the line of tall windows in the main hall. Sliding the window up enough for them to climb out is relatively silent, save for squeaks that match each halt in the slide up and lets in the unmuted sound of the crickets' chorus. Nene doesn't even wince at the noise– it leaves Aoi in awe, who had promptly triple checked the doors to see if any instructors came charging towards them at the first squeak.

With a practiced ease, Nene slips over the window's ledge. Leaves crunch as she steps over, both feet solidly on the ground. Ducking back in, she smiles at Aoi, cheeks rosy, and offers her hand.

Wood chips from the landscaping and burrs from the foliage dig into her feet when she climbs over. At her grimace, Nene smiles sympathetically. "Sorry," she whispers, pulling down the window that squeaks only slightly to about a quarter-inch open– just enough to seem closed if glanced over. "Wearing socks helps, but then it gets stuck to your feet more…" she reveals, lifting her foot and brushing off anything caught by the threads.

Hand still clasping Aoi's, she leads her through the mulch, between the topiaries and the bushes. Lit by the moonlight, their trek through the landscaping leads them to the looping cobblestone pathway that connects the entire back of the campus. The stones are cool to the touch, chilly through the thin socks she wears. 

They walk through a cloud of gnats at least once along their path, causing both of them to swat away at the air. They pass a conglomeration of frogs, croaking obnoxiously overtop each other. Nene whispers a quiet, "I think they're having an argument," and both of them giggle at the prospect of it. 

Nonetheless, their stroll eventually ends at the academy's extensive gardens, surrounded by the pruned hedges. And the further they step into the gardens, the more Aoi understands what Nene means.

Aoi forgets how much of a difference simply the moon being full in the sky does for the night itself– regardless of how much time she spends in the gardens during the day, there's nothing quite like it now in the night. Most of the flowers have closed up with the lack of sunlight, but a few are still open, their petals nearly iridescent with the moonlight they catch.

She wishes she could stay here forever. The world holds its breath for them, here.

"Oh!" gasps Nene, squeezing her hand– Aoi didn't even realize they were still holding hands– "Fireflies!" 

At first, she doesn't see them. Small blinks of light, regulated mostly to the hedges and the treeline, but then one winks close to Nene's face, lighting her face in the softest of lights, which makes her gasp, delighted. 

"I haven't seen fireflies in forever," Aoi admits softly, transfixed. The bugs must have been startled by their approach– now that they're used to the new presence, they've begun dotting between the bushes.

One blinks near her arm. Gently, Aoi lifts her hands and cups the firefly, mid air. Soft fluttering brushes against her fingers until the bug settles. When she opens up her palms, the bug seems content to stay, lighting up her palms and her face after a few moments. 

"Woah," Nene breathes next to her, leaning in closer to knock their shoulders together. She's warm, comforting against the chill of the night. 

Aoi turns more towards her, profering out her hands. The firefly flashes only a couple times more before taking flight, gently bumbling up and out of Aoi's palms. 

They're so close together. Huddled, essentially– if Aoi looked up to Nene's face, she could probably count each individual eyelash, count each freckle on her cheeks. 

However, Nene ends up stepping away before Aoi can gather the courage to look. She digs into the pockets of her cardigan, pulling out a small bundle–

"I brought cookies, too!" she beams. 

Aoi laughs clear and loud, delighted. "You won't believe this, then," she says, and tugs a napkin out from her own pocket. In both of their hands are the same kinds of cookies they had separately nabbed from the dining hall this afternoon.

Nene cheers loud enough that she's briefly worried that it might alert someone they're out there– she finds, after a moment, that she doesn't care if they're found. 

______________

A crack of thunder.

"Ms. Akane!"

Painstakingly, obnoxiously, Ms. Yako inspects everything thoroughly. Aoi already knows what she'll find. She's already got the itemized list.

Dirt caked beneath her nails. Said fingernails jagged, uneven and unmatched amongst each other. Blouse unironed, crumpled and wrinkly. Socks unevenly pulled up. Shoes scratched up, unshined…

Ms. Yako looks only a couple of seconds away from reaching out and pressing the back of her palm to Aoi's forehead. 

Aoi gives a breathless smile and a little shrug. She doesn't apologize. 

After Ms. Yako scratches furiously at her clipboard, dead silent, she steps to the next girl. Her face twists more.

Nene shoots Aoi a cheeky smile. She winks right on back.

______________

"We're going to start ballroom dance lessons!" cheers Nene when she drops down next to Aoi on the grass. Her presence comes with the departure of some idle butterflies, which she briefly pouts about as she watches them leave. It doesn't bring her spirits down for long, though. "I've always wanted to learn! I was so glad to hear there's actually lessons for it here!"

"I'm surprised it's taken so long to get around to," Aoi says, thoughtful. As part of their curriculum, they dedicate at least a month for a specific elective class that occurs at the end of the day. Longer training was for equestrianism and piano lessons, while things like embroidery and poetry were summed up in a week.

Ballroom dancing is definitely one of the first things imagined when talking about elite family gatherings– galas and parties are still a regular thing, so it's only natural that it should be taught. 

"It's so charming," Nene sighs, leaning back on her palms to look through the tree's canopy. "I've always wanted to, like, entrance someone with how gracefully I dance, y'know?" 

She doubts that something as simple as dancing would be a deciding factor on whether or not someone likes you, so Aoi just rolls her eyes playfully.

But she understands– when she was younger and impressionable and saw a gala with the gowns and the suits and the twirling couples, she had imagined herself amongst them. Having someone in your arms, close together, in stunning outfits and glittering floors… well, it would dazzle any child. 

"I don't know if it's the dance that charms, or if it's the dress," Aoi says conversationally. She doesn't really find ballroom dancing as entracing as she did when she was younger. The idea of being paired up with men she doesn't know or don't care for doesn't really sit well in her chest.

"It's gotta be both!" Nene counters, pouting thoughtful. "Like… if your dress is stunning, but you're going to be stepping on your partner's feet all night, no one is going to want to dance with you. Then if you're great at dancing, but your dress isn't all that flashy, no one would want to dance with someone who isn't… well, gorgeous, I guess."

Aoi blinks, surprised. "You've put a lot of thought into it, haven't you?"

Nene nods enthusiastically. "Well, yeah!" she says, rearranging her skirt across her knees, "I mean, I've got to make sure someone wants to dance with me, be that with a nice dress or proper dance steps."

Confusion pulls at Aoi's mouth. There's… something, underneath that statement. It bugs Aoi enough that she can't stop turning it over in her head. "What do you mean by that?"

"The boys I ask always turn me down, so I figured it's gotta be my dancing that bugs them, right?" she concludes, scratching at her chin, "They've probably seen me absolutely massacre people's feet when I dance! I know I'm a little bit of a mess, so I've got to learn properly!"

In the years that Aoi's been forced to attend parties and galas, never has she ever met a boy who's cared about dancing. They'll only dance because it's proper to, and they'll always botch it, clobbering her toes with their shined shoes, crashing into others when the dance itself is a simple square and a twirl. 

If a boy gives a shit about dancing, they're so snot-nosed that they're not even worth the time spent trading bows with. 

So that means. That means…

Bitterness fills her mouth. She curses all of the boys who have looked at Nene, seen Nene bear her heart out to them in the palm of her soft hands, asking for something as small as a dance, a dance that lasts a minute tops, and turned her away. She curses each and every one of them. 

Because while she's not dainty or proper or graceful, Nene is-- Nene is fantastic. She could never be anything but. 

She hates that the only conclusion Nene's come to is to change herself. Hates it. 

Aoi has to choose her next words carefully. She has to even out her tone, to keep the anger tugging at her heart from boiling over into her voice, because Nene doesn't deserve to hear something so foul. "That's quite some dedication," she says, practiced. 

The compliment makes Nene brighten. "I've really gotta pay attention this time around," she rallies, sitting up with her back purposefully straight, "I'm going to blow Ms. Yako's socks off!"

Seeing Nene so excited does alleviate the rage in her chest, allowing her to smile without forcing it. "I can't wait to see it."

By the time the class period rolls around, the class gathers in one of the spare ballrooms at the academy– because, of course, there's multiple ballrooms. Ridiculous. 

The floors are freshly polished, shiny enough that the chandelier's reflection is another source of blinding light. In the corner of the room, stationed by the massive windows that show a glimpse of the gardens, is an old fashioned gramophone. The two of them are one of the first few people to arrive, so they sit against the wall as they wait for more people to filter in.

Nene's almost trembling in excitement next to her, hand clasped in Aoi's. "This is so exciting," Nene confesses, bubbly. "I can nearly see it! Like, right over there is where the live music is meant to play, and then over there is where the hors d'oeuvres are meant to be!" 

"Oh, that's right," Aoi says, remembering, "the class reunion balls are held in this ballroom, right?"

"Yep! And then the graduation parties are in the main ballroom, and then the Annual Charity Gala is in the one near the music room– can you believe it? I never thought there needed to be multiple ballrooms for a single place, but I guess I was wrong."

"No, you're right," Aoi snorts softly. "Eden loves showing how much money is invested in it, so they have far too many ballrooms. I don't think there's any difference between the rooms other than where they're located." She rolls her eyes secretly, just for Nene. 

Nene giggles, starry-eyed. As more students gather in the room, a tall lady from the main office peers in. She briefly looks over everyone until her eyes land on the two of them.

"Ms. Akane?" the lady calls out from the open door. "There's a call for you in the office."

A… call? 

A small dredge of worry crawls under her skin. There's only one person who would bother to call her, but she squashes the feeling before it can take hold.

Shrugging, she looks back at Nene, smiling with ease. "Hopefully I won't be long," she says.

Nene salutes her. "I'll catch you up on whatever you miss!"

With a small wave, Aoi leaves the ballroom to head for the office. She tries not to let the idea of a call dig into her bones too much, not before she actually figures out who it is. 

However, when she steps into the office, the secretary warily looks up from where she's holding the receiver to her ear. Her lips are pressed together in the specific way Aoi knows exactly who is on the other side of the line.

Ice crawls through her veins until she's frigid, movements cracking like a lake's surface. She takes the phone from the lady's hands, wishing she could throw the whole phone right out the yawning windows beside her, and raises the phone to her ear.

"Mother," Aoi greets, smile perfectly intact, voice unwavering.

"Aoi," returns her mother. Businesslike. That's all it ever is with her. 

Aoi's jaw nearly pops as she opens it to speak her lines in this script. "How are you?" She asks sweetly, because she knows her mother will not ask first, and will not say anything until Aoi does. Idly, she twirls the coiled chord of the phone around her finger, pulling until it tightens and circulation is cut.

And, like expected, her mother twists it all around. "How do you think I am, upon receiving a phone call that my daughter has been acting out?"

Acting out. She nearly scoffs out loud. It's exactly as it is in the eyes of the academy, but it still rakes her nerves. 

Of course, it's only when she's not falling in line that her mother calls. Never before did she ever call her to congratulate her on any aced exams or flawless inspection results. Never.

Idly, she wonders what her mother had actually been told. What the words of the institution were. She hasn't been falling behind in any classes. Her uniform inspections are still passing, aside from the occasional nick that she doesn't care enough about. All she does out of line is have fun. 

"I apologize," she says politely. She'd rather drink arsenic than be genuine.

"If you keep this attitude," her mother says, barbed wire on her tongue, "I will withdraw you from that school. Do you understand?"

A stone plummets in her stomach. For the first time in forever, Aoi shrivels. 

She couldn't care less about Eden Academy. From day one this institution has restitched girls in a way that was more appealing, more flattering, to a class of up-turned bourgeois bores to be showcased as a doll rather than interacted with as a real, live human. This school is a blight of the earth, a smoldering, still-hot ember, waiting for enough oxygen to reignite and incinerate the individuality of young girls.

The only way to avoid crumpling is to bow your head and follow blindly. Don't let it reach your heart or your soul. 

Frankly, she's sick of this place. She's annoyed with having to keep her cuticles clean for inspection, to scrub away and dig out any of the dirt caught her fingernails. Fed up that any glimpse of a grin, any sliver of a smile that's more teeth than the designated lady-like close lipped grimace, is a cause for punishment. Tired of being a proper young lady. 

At any chance to leave this place, she would have gladly taken it.

But now… 

Aoi's finger aches. When she looks down, her chord-wrapped finger is the color of a plum.

"Yes, ma'am. I understand," she relents, quiet. 

"Good. I expect improvement by the end of the week. If not, I'm pulling you out on Monday." And with a piercing click, her mother hangs up.

The dial tone drones in her ear. She doesn't lower the phone, not until the secretary starts looking more and more worried with each glance towards her. Only when she hands the receiver back does she untwist her finger from the chord. 

Her pulse throbs a deep beat in her fingertip as it slowly returns to a better color. Upon the pins and needles, Aoi curls her hand into a fist, crushing the digit as she returns to her room.

______________

Since she's an absolute angel, Nene returns to their room almost immediately after the class is over. 

"Hey," she says, two parts curious and one part concerned. Taking note of the darkness of the room, she doesn't turn the lights on when she steps in. Only the filtered light from the window acts as a guide. "Are you alright? You didn't come back to class…"

"I'm alright," she says neutrally, hands folded in her lap. It was a little awful of her to not go back to class especially since she said she would, but if she had stepped into that room and put her eyes on Nene when the hole in her chest was tearing open, she would have not been able to hold it all together.

What a mess it would have been. What a complete mess it already is.

Nene doesn't look convinced in the slightest, but she graciously doesn't prod further. All she does is let her bag slip off her shoulder, toes off her shoes, and climbs up onto Aoi's bed, slotting right next to her. 

Aoi takes her hand when it's offered and manages to not squeeze too hard. Perhaps it had been silly to think that having an hour of peace would help her keep it together, since it all nearly unfolds right here and now, nearly unspools from her chest and down her cheeks.

"I'll tell you more later," she whispers, definitive.

Nene only nods, giving back a squeeze of her hand. 

In a handful of minutes, Nene's head drops onto her shoulder, breathing slow and quiet. Aoi closes her eyes and wills herself not to shake.

They barely manage to get the remnants of dinner. The staff give them searing side-eyes, but do nothing more than passive-aggressively clean up around them.

Aoi feels a little bad for bothering them. Nonetheless, she piles up her plate and sits with Nene by her side.

Since Aoi's known the art of bottling things up and throwing them out to sea to never be thought of again, she's able to keep a normal conversation with Nene the whole time. Nene, who had looked troubled for a moment, picked up where she was meant to– she now chatters about the ballroom lesson, recounting how Ms. Yako messed up the gramophone and played it backwards and couldn't figure out what was wrong for at least ten minutes.

Aoi listens, but for all of her bravado, she can't keep the tension from her limbs. 

She needs to tell Nene. Needs to. Her mother is going to hold true to her word– and, from the way things are, it's either cut ties with Nene to get onto the instructors' good sides once again, or be cut from Nene.

There's no good way for this to end. There just isn't.

When Nene finishes talking about the steps she still couldn't get a hang of in the classroom, Aoi, desperate to grasp at any chances to spend the time remaining with Nene, softly suggests, "Why don't you show me?"

Nene looks up, blinking curiously, cheeks pudgy with the bite she just took. Her baby hairs are arranged strangely, like she had squashed them down with sweat from dancing and they had dried that way. 

"We can figure it out together," Aoi points out, trying to refocus her eyes somewhere else before she gets too enraptured with how cute Nene is. "It's been a while since I've learned, but maybe with the two of us, we can get there?"

"You already knew how to dance?" Nene gasps theatrically. Her knee bangs against the mahogany table, making the dishes clatter. She winces, ducking to avoid the sharp look a staff member shoots her, but doesn't let her voice down. "You've been holding out on me this whole time?"

"I wouldn't call it 'holding out.'" Aoi says, laughing. "I doubt I would be very good at teaching you how." As an apology, she slides over the remainder of her pudding. With a playful glare, Nene accepts the apology with a spoonful. 

"Tonight, maybe?" Aoi suggests, trying to hide how restless she is. 

Nene nods solidly. "Tonight!"

Creeping through the halls has surprisingly become second nature to her. In the dead of night, so late that there's no chance any hall monitor will be up, Aoi and Nene slip into the halls.

The ballroom paints a completely different picture at night. Moonlight reflects from the polished marble floors not unlike the chandelier, lighting the entire room– and, subsequently, illuminating the gramophone still in its place in the corner of the room. The vinyl record is still in place, so all Nene does is move the arm back over the record, and soft orchestral music begins to play.

The world feels ethereal, right now, in this room, with the starlight and the faint notes of violins. Nene glows with the moon as she twirls into the middle of the dance floor, the shimmery-white of her bed clothes fluttering like curtains in a breeze. 

"Okay, step one," Nene announces, voice hushed, even though they're already being risky by playing music. Sweeping low, she does an over-the-top bow, looking up cheekily towards Aoi. "Properly greet your partner!"

The grandeur of the action makes Aoi laugh softly, easily bowing back. "It's an honor," she says politely, voice light. Usually, during bow exchanges, she keeps her lips pressed tight, only giving her partner a smile that's just a shy bit nicer than a grimace. For Nene– she lets excitement color into her words, feeling silly but having fun with it.

Nene laughs, delighted. "Then, uhm," she continues, then pauses. "Do you want to lead, or should I?"

"You lead, since you're taller," Aoi jokes, holding her hands out for Nene to take. 

"What!" Using their clasped hands, she pulls Aoi closer, peering at the top of her head as if she can tell the difference in their heights. "No way! No way am I taller!"

In truth, it's only a difference of a centimeter or two– all in all not that big of a difference– but seeing Nene gasp like this is adorable. "Why do you think I always ask you to get the books from the high shelves?" Aoi continues, bubbling with laughter. 

"Wha– Ehm!" Nene blubbers, face growing pink. "I just– thought, that– whatever! I'll– I'll lead, then!" She tries to reel back, but the tips of her ears continue to burn, her pout pronounced in a way that she tries to control her expression. "So, uhm, now we… we hold these two hands," she gives one pair a little shake before she lets go of the other, gently guiding Aoi's hand. "And then you put yours on my shoulder, and mine goes on your waist!"

Aoi was worried, infinitesimally, that being so close to each other would be awkward, that she would freeze up with the proximity and the touch. But it's nothing like that– not with the laughter between the two of them, when Nene mixes up where her elbow is meant to be in the arrangement, her hand on Aoi's waist like a reassurance. 

When their giggling peeters out, Nene's gone quiet, a smile curved on her face as she looks at Aoi. She doesn't say anything for a moment or two, and Aoi's heart begins to climb into her throat. 

"And then?" Aoi prompts softly.

A blink. Nene continues as if she wasn't in a brief trance. "And then we… uhm… step back. My right foot. So you step forward with your left!"

It's off to a wobbly start, especially when Nene moves her left foot instead of right. The misstep sends them into a fit of laughter again, and another when Nene yelps as Aoi steps too far and her toes crush Nene's. 

They step in rounds for a couple of minutes, trying to find a rhythm of their own. The waltz is a simple square, but they manage to make it a hexagon of sorts– their pace completely ignoring the beat set by the tinny orchestra. A little bit longer, and Aoi's confident enough to look up from her feet to Nene's distracted face.

She doesn't get very long to admire unnoticed– Nene's eyes flicker up, double taking at the sight of Aoi already looking at her, then she brings her whole head up. When Nene's eyes soften, bright with a smile, Aoi feels her chest flutter, butterflies in flight. 

With Nene like this, her hair silvery in the dim light, soft around the edges and heart on her sleeve, Aoi thinks if she were more brave she could kiss her. Right here. It would be so simple: just a lean forward. 

But she's not brave. Not anymore. 

"My mother called," Aoi whispers before she can hold it back. By will alone is she able to keep her voice even. If she speaks any louder, she won't be able to keep out the warble that's threatening to crack her voice. "That's why I had to miss practice."

Nene hums, a quiet urge for her to continue. The only context Nene has for Aoi's mother are in bits and pieces, scraps of scraps. She knows that it's hard for Aoi to speak about it, so she waits, endlessly patient.

God. Aoi can't be thankful enough for her.

"The academy called her. That I've been 'acting out,'" she says, rolling her eyes. Nene snorts with her, laughing under her breath. It's almost a joke in and of itself– the amount of times they've been chastised for acting out when they were doing things like sharing secret smiles in class or drawing in the library.

Aoi swallows thickly against the tightness of her throat. Swallows again. Whispers. "She… She threatened to pull me from the academy if I didn't get my act together."

Once it's in the air, she feels more than sees Nene's reaction. There's a jump to her– her hands flinch, against her palm, against her waist. She slows their pace to a halt, looking at Aoi with a quake in her eyes. 

"She'd… pull you out?" Nene whispers, fraught. 

She wishes there was anything she could say or do to banish that look from Nene's face. It's written into the laws of nature– Nene isn't made for being sad, for being upset, she should be laughing, gleaming. Her eyes should never glisten this much.

But there's nothing. Nothing she can do. Ashamed, Aoi looks back down to her feet, unable to look at Nene and say worse and worse things.

"Yes," Aoi confirms. The butterflies in her chest riot, unsettled, upset. "She said I have a week to… to get back into the instructor's good graces."

She doesn't know what her mother was told. Doesn't know if they put a bug in her ear about the fact that Aoi has finally found a friend, someone she can confide in and trust, only at the cost of being an obedient lady. 

What a load of shit. They've never cared about her before, and they never will.

"A week," Nene croaks. She swallows audibly– Aoi really, really hopes that that's not the sound of tears, because she could never forgive herself if she made Nene cry.

Aoi lets her forehead drop into the gap of Nene's shoulder and throat. 

After a moment of silence, she says, "Okay." The sound of acceptance in Nene's voice shakes Aoi to the core, jerking back to look at the shuddering expression on Nene's face. "Okay," she repeats, straightening from her slump. "That's alright, then."

Aoi feels hollow. She feels dizzy, sick. "That's– That's alright?" she echoes, scared, scared because what does she mean. 

"It's– it's not great, but it's still possible," Nene starts, eyes unfocused like she's planning it all in front of her. "You already know how to do everything properly and get good scores, so all we need to do is stop hanging out with each other, right? I'll stop bothering you, and then you can stay!"

The only reason Aoi doesn't shake is because she's so tense, so strung up. "What? What?" 

Dispodent in a way that raises the hairs on Aoi's neck, Nene continues, words rushing into each other, "I'm– I'm a bad influence, you know?" Her hands tug away from Aoi's. As if she's infecting her. As if she needs to get away. "I'm always doing the wrong thing, and I shouldn't drag you into that, too. I mean…"

Both of them know the looks that the staff give them. The sneer of disproval at Nene, always at Nene, and the slight disappointment that takes when they look at Aoi. They always look at Nene like she's a mold growing on Aoi's side. A parasite. Just something that needs to be cut off, removed at the root.

Every glance had made Aoi so angry. So fucking angry.

"It's not your fault," Aoi interrupts, holding steadfast before Nene could fully slip away, "It could never be your fault."

Nene grimaces like she doesn't believe it. Something deep twists her gut, because-- because--

"Nene, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she says, so truthful that it hurts, but she needs Nene to know, needs her to understand. "I don't care if they think I'm acting out. I-- I don't want to be this… this perfect daughter. I don't care about having perfect mannerisms or bowing correctly or being coy or whatever. I'm having fun. With you. I love going outside and climbing trees for bugs with you. I love exploring the abandoned halls with you. I love sitting in class with you. You've made everything bearable."

Nene ducks her head, hair falling as a curtain over her face. For a moment, she's worried, deep in her chest, that Nene still won't believe her, but her ears are cherry red. When she peaks up from her bangs, the line of her cheekbones are also flushed, eyes glittering. 

"What… what are you going to do, then?" she asks, quiet, so quiet.

Aoi turns away, briefly frustrated. "I– I don't know." There really isn't anything they can do. Going back to how it was before, when she smiled politely and courtesy in the way that got her full marks-- thinking about it makes her shrivel on the inside. She couldn't. 

But at least they would still be able to see each other, even if it was regulated just to when they would resign for the night. It would be better than not seeing Nene at all. But…

It's unfair to Nene, too. At least with the two of them conspiring, they weren't alone. They could botch any lesson, giggle under their breaths, venture off to places they weren't allowed to, but they always had someone to turn to. If Aoi were to turn a new page and go back, Nene would go right back to being the blemish that everyone ignores. The one that everyone thinks is hopeless, even though she tries, tries so hard.

She knows Nene tries to hide it. She's seen Nene try to hide it– seen the muscles in her jaw shift, like she's biting down on her tongue, holding her tongue, when someone says scathing words to her. She's seen the wince, the flash of hopelessness whenever Nene knows she's messed up, when she's blotted her uniform and knows it's unsalvageable. 

No one sees how hard Nene tries. No one. 

It's unfair. It's so unfair. Nene doesn't deserve that. Nene has never deserved to be dismissed like that. She's only trying to survive in this bleak hell.

God. Why does-- why does everything come in the way, right when things seem to be working out? 

"I don't know," she says again, defeated. "I… I can't go home. I can't. But I don't want to leave you, I can't just… cast you off during the day. I…"

"Then– run away with me!" Nene blurts, leaning so close that, for a heart-stilling moment, Aoi thinks she's going to kiss her. She threads her fingers through Aoi's, squeezing tight. She looks– embarrassed, that she's shouted, but she doesn't lose any enthusiasm. "Run away with me," she repeats, more heartfelt, reassured, "If they can't accept you for who you are, then they don't deserve you. We'll find somewhere else!"

Aoi thinks she could cry. She might actually cry. 

"W-Where?" she nearly chokes, her heart in the back of her throat, because it's a ridiculous idea, it would never work, but they could. They could run away. "Where would we go?"

Gaining momentum with the idea now that she's said it out loud, Nene says confidently, "I dunno!" Her eyes still glimmer though, filled to the brim with excitement and hope. "We-- we can just go somewhere! Anywhere we like! We don't even have to have a destination in mind!"

An ember in her heart, Aoi feels so hopeful. She wants to believe in it so badly. She-- she does believe in it. But nothing has ever worked out well for her before– she wants it to, wants more than anything for this to work out, but…

"They'll come looking for us," Aoi has to say, a pessimist. 

"So?" And just like that, Nene blows over that worry. "So what if they do? If they find us and bring us back, we'll just have to leave again, right?"

Softer, finally acknowledging the magnitude of the suggestion, Nene lowering their clasped hands as she talks quietly, "And– and if we don't figure it out, or– or even if we're just tired of running and hiding, we can just come back, you know? Just. We can't stay here. It's killing you."

"And you," Aoi corrects quietly, because she has to. "It's killing you, too."

Nene smiles, something weak and defeated. Her shoulders sink a bit. "Yeah," she breathes out. Almost like an inhale, as well. "Yeah. Me too."

Because while Nene gives and gives, she'll push her own worries down into her heart, where they are never to be mentioned or seen. She'll ignore it, even though it's tearing her apart. She'd ignore it, apparently, just so she can give Aoi hope.

Because while much of this is for Aoi, this is also for Nene. 

Aoi– Aoi wants to give her hope, too.

It's naive. So childishly naive, but Aoi wants to be this naive for once. 

"Okay," she blurts, smile watery and quaking. "We. We can do this. Okay."

And Nene shines, hopeful on her lips.

______________

Towards the end of April, two Eden Academy students were reported missing, with their last known appearance being the final class period of the day, mere hours before. A multitude of personal belongings were also missing, as well as the Academy's standardized bags used for school materials. 

All that remains of them– the only hint of them– were two pairs of the black, shiny flats regulated as Eden uniform, placed at the very edge of the breezeway leading to the gardens.