BUT WISHES ARE ONLY GRANTED IN FAIRY TALES. . .

— guys istg if there's another typo and y'all- i will flip-
— PART TWO OF CHAPTER 80

"Hanako-kun," Yashiro sobbed on his chest as the said male rubbed her back up and down soothingly, muttering comforting words that relaxed Yashiro a bit (just a bit, because the woman earlier just ran away). She trembled under his grip, feeling her energy leave her body until she eventually passed out. She could feel someone run their bony fingers on her hair, then tears fell and made a spot on her uniform.

Even after a few days of that traumatizing event, Yashiro couldn't rid of a nagging feeling at the back of her head. Someone was watching her. Yashiro isn't stupid, she knows it's her, with her crimson, shrewd eyes, and sharp fangs that is itching to jump at her and tear through Yashiro's skin like it's fabric — blood spewing is a sight that woman must never get tired of.

She's a ravenous beast: hungry, starving, aching for more of human souls until they're limp on her grip, eyes rolled at the back of their heads, heart coming to a stop. She craves their body because it's what she feeds on, but this woman also likes to hear their cries of pain, rumbling from their throat until it's dry and rough; fading away slowly along with their last breath.

This supernatural is a monster.

She's the beast you've been warned of, the reason why exorcists and other slayers alike exist: to kill those horrible apparitions ruthlessly, so the world is at peace yet again. But there's no one to save Yashiro now. All her friends left the school early, and of course, Yashiro made the mistake of staying behind despite the alarms ringing off in her head. Hanako said he had something to take care off, so the supernatural took this in her advantage

"Hello again, my dear," she cooed, a smile gracing her dark, red lips, like blood that she'd lick off a human when they'd bleed. Run away, Yashiro screamed at herself, but her feet were planted on the ground, shaky, too afraid to move, lest the woman would attack her with her sharp claws that can dig holes in Yashiro's flesh in one try. "It's nice to see you again, my little raindrop," she cheered, a fire in her eyes that made Yashiro gulp; anger lit up in those crimson orbs of hers, "I didn't really introduce myself last time. My name is Sumiko." She smiled.

Yashiro didn't smile back. The cream-haired girl knew that Sumiko sensed the despair clouding Yashiro's eyes and mind, it screamed, so painfully loud, but still Yashiro made no move. It was as if something — or someone — was holding her back. An unknown force, almost shaped like a hand that wrapped itself on Yashiro's neck, nails digging and pinching Yashiro's porcelain skin. Yashiro couldn't breathe even by just the woman staring at her.

Sumiko giggled, ringing in Yashiro's ear like a haunted doll's song. "Don't be scared, Nene—" since when did Yashiro agree to Sumiko even calling her that anyway?— "I'm freeing you from this pain. . ." She floated closer, using her dainty fingers to tilt Yashiro's chin upwards. Sumiko is tall, with her slender legs and skinny body. Her hair that seemed to reach the floor waved down to spirals at the tips, framing not only just her face, but her whole body. Sumiko is beautiful, but her heart isn't.

Sumiko's heart is like a cave, never-ending pools of dark ink dripping down, tainting her eyes and sweet smile, splattering when she attacks, eyes turned to slits.

Yashiro inched away, just by the ghost of a touch that she felt on her chin made her feel icky, like she's the one who had killed thousands of innocent students; like Sumiko's sins are transferred to her — that's how tainted she is. "What do you mean by freeing me from this pain?" Yashiro hissed out, she's learned to be aggressive. "I am not suffering, and I don't need your help."

There was annoyance that flickered in Sumiko's eyes for a moment, but instead of openly expressing it, she chuckled and twirled a strand of Yashiro's hair, then harshly tugged on it, making Yashiro wince. "Naive girl. I'm sure you know that your death isn't far off." Yashiro flinched, making Sumiko smirk, fangs showing. "That's right. I'm just speeding up the process, you know? I've never had a prey like you — you're special, Yashiro Nene. It's no wonder why he chose you." Was that supposed to be comforting?

Yashiro was a moth with flimsy wings; or, as she prefers, a butterfly with paper wings, and then Yashiro burned, her screams ripping her throat but no one could hear, Sumiko placed her pointer finger on Yashiro that made the girl pass out almost immediately, her desperate calls dying out as she fell down on the floor. "Hanako-kun," the whisper fell on her lips pathetically as Sumiko chuckled.

- - -

Something was wrong.

Call it gut instinct, call it his heart suddenly squeezing in his chest, constricting his breath — hell, call it whatever you want, in the end, all that mattered was something was wrong and Hanako felt an urge to suddenly hurry his steps on his way to Yashiro. Hanako's mind raced and appeared near Yashiro in a snap. On Sumiko's arms, laid Yashiro, pliant in her grasp, as if she's molded exactly the way Sumiko wanted: dead.

"What are you. . ." Hanako couldn't find the words to say at this moment.

Sumiko lifted her head and beamed a smile at the seventh school mystery. "Ah! Honorable No. 7! How nice of you to drop by, despite it being too. . ." Sumiko glanced at Yashiro's emotionless face and smirked. . . "late. I guess sometimes even the Hanako-san misses to save a life."

Then anger burned in his chest like a wildfire, wrath raged in him so hard that Hanako couldn't stop himself, he went straight to Sumiko, but the graceful lady simply stepped aside, making use of Hanako's current state of uncontrolled emotions. Hanako clicked his tongue and instead wrapped his arms around Yashiro, cradling her carefully as if she will break under a simple feather touch.

For some reason, even when unconscious, Yashiro's plump, red lips pulled into a grimace, a furrow in her brows, wrinkles appearing — Yashiro shouldn't have gone like this. Hanako broke. He broke into a hysterical cry, drowning in self-hatred and misery, the gloomy sky doing nothing but worsening his mood. He hated the smirk Sumiko wore, he wanted to rip it apart for even thinking she could lay a finger on Yashiro.

Anger fueled him, along with unfounded despair, as the urge to slash his knife through Sumiko devoured his whole entity, his fingers that are curled around his knife trembling with rage. Hanako saw nothing but red.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Hanako said, face suddenly unreadable. 

Sumiko piqued an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? So you are aware of what the future is?" She laughed, the same laugh that broke glass and made eardrums rumble. "Well, too bad, the future changed for the second time!" There was a knowing gleam that shone in her eyes. "Isn't that lovely? The two souls that are bounded together are the same ones that changed the future!"

Hanako had one task left, and that was to grant Yashiro Nene's wish. But it can't be helped sometimes when wishes are only granted in fairytales, and this isn't one.

- - -

Requested by: FeriaeSoror ❤️

is she yuuki's relative? who knows. but they both have a lot of things in common: preying on yashiro and ruining hanako's undead life.

did yashiro die? that's up to you guys.

somehow, my writing style changes depending on my mood.

Thank you for reading! Stay safe, please ❤️