The Ghosts of Our Pasts, Cheering Us On
The Weight of Silver and Soil
It was only when Teru had taken abolishing Hanako and Mitsuba into his own hands behind Kou and Nene's back, ending whatever was left of their existence in secret, that the both of them realized that ghosts and humans were really never meant to be, after all. The boundaries between the living and the dead had been blurred for far too long, and Teru’s lightning had been the cruel, final stroke that drew the line back into the sand.
Nene’s scales stopped appearing in the shower. The heavy, suffocating curse of the mermaid, which had once felt like a countdown to her doom, simply vanished. As it seemed after a total of three years since the incident, her lifespan was no longer in danger. The price of her life, however, had been the total absence of the boy who used to float behind her, teasing her about her ankles.
Kou had rightfully distanced himself from Teru. The rift between the brothers was silent but vast, a chasm built on the ashes of a boy with a camera and pink hair. Kou couldn't look at his brother’s righteous hands without seeing the sparks that had snuffed out his best friend. Instead, he and Nene had been growing closer in the final year of school.
At first, neither of them noticed it happening.
Kou had simply started waiting for Yashiro after school. He would lean against the lockers, no longer holding a staff meant for exorcism, but just his backpack. Yashiro had simply started looking for him whenever she left the classroom, her eyes scanning the hallway until they landed on his familiar shock of blond hair.
He would walk her home, and somewhere along the way, their conversations stopped being about Hanako and Mitsuba. The ghosts became ghosts in the literal sense—shadows that haunted the corners of their memories but no longer dominated their speech. They talked about teachers they hated, exams they were dreading, and stupid things they'd seen that day. Yashiro would complain about her latest failed attempt at cooking, her voice high and melodic, and Kou would laugh until she threatened to never feed him again.
"I mean it, Kou-kun! One more comment about the salt levels and you're banned from the kitchen!" she’d huff, crossing her arms.
Then she would inevitably ask what he wanted for dinner.
Then he'd inevitably say, “Whatever you want.”
And somehow, those became the days they remembered most. Not the battles in the Boundaries or the tears shed in the bathroom, but the quiet rhythm of the sidewalk and the smell of the evening air.
There was no grand moment when they decided to become important to each other. It happened in pieces. Kou learned that Yashiro hummed when she was happy—a soft, fluttering sound that reminded him of spring. Yashiro learned that Kou smiled differently when he was genuinely relaxed; his eyes would crinkle at the corners, losing that sharp, guarded edge he carried at home.
Kou started carrying an extra umbrella because Yashiro was always forgetting hers. Yashiro started buying his favorite drink whenever she stopped at the convenience store, even when he hadn't asked for it. Neither of them ever mentioned these things. They just kept doing them, weaving their lives together like two threads forming a single cord.
Soon, it became impossible to imagine a day without the other in it. If something funny happened, Yashiro wanted to tell Kou. If something upset Kou, he wanted to find Yashiro. If Kou saw something she would like, he bought it without thinking. If Yashiro passed a place they had visited together, she smiled before she even realized why.
And somewhere in the middle of all that ordinary, unremarkable affection, something changed.
Kou noticed it first. It was stupid, really. He was sitting beside Yashiro after school, watching her struggle with a particularly difficult homework problem. The library was quiet, bathed in the golden hue of the setting sun. She was frowning so intensely that he almost laughed.
“Yashiro.”
“What?” she snapped, not looking up from her trigonometry.
“You've been staring at the same question for five minutes.”
“I am thinking.”
“You've been thinking for five minutes.”
“Shut up.” She nudged his shoulder with hers, a playful, familiar contact.
He laughed. And then, for no reason at all, Kou felt his chest tighten. He looked at her. Really looked at her. At the little crease between her eyebrows that appeared when she was frustrated. At the way her hair fell over her face when she leaned over her notebook, the tips of her bangs brushing the paper. At the smile she tried to hide when she caught him staring.
And suddenly, painfully clearly, he understood.
Oh.
It wasn't because she understood what he'd lost. It wasn't because she was the only person left who could understand the secret world they had once inhabited. It wasn't because they had survived the same terrible thing.
He loved her.
He loved Yashiro when she was crying, and when she was laughing, and when she was being impossibly stubborn. He loved her when she was talking about things that meant nothing to him, like the latest idol gossip or a new type of fertilizer for her gardening club. He loved the sound of her voice saying his name. He loved knowing what kind of drink she would choose without asking.
He loved her simply because she was her.
And, somehow, that realization was more frightening than anything he'd faced before. Because losing someone was one thing—he was an expert at that. But wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone? That was a terrifying, beautiful responsibility.
“...Kou?”
He blinked, snapping out of his trance. Yashiro was looking at him, her large, ruby-colored eyes reflecting the sunset.
“What?”
“You're staring again.”
His face went bright red, heat creeping up his neck. “I-I wasn't!”
“You absolutely were.”
“I was thinking!”
“About me?” she teased, leaning in closer.
“No!”
She laughed, a bright, clear sound that filled the library. And Kou looked away, covering his face with one hand. He was doomed. Completely, hopelessly doomed. And judging by the way Yashiro's cheeks had turned pink, he wasn't entirely sure she hadn't figured it out too.
By the time they were nearing graduation, they were, in every way possible, completely in love with each other. Kou became a subject of Nene's secret love poems—which weren't all that secret since she left her notebook open constantly—and she hadn't been happier. The shadows of the past were still there, but they were no longer the main characters of their story.
It happened under an orange tree one afternoon. They had decided to lay out gummy candies with an obvious rainbow theme on a picnic blanket, eating to their hearts' content. Kou had a secret in his pocket, a small velvet box that felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Looking at Nene, with her hair done in intricate braids and the light filtering through the leaves to dance on her skin, he knew that laying it off for another day would mean a day lost.
"...Hey, Nene," Kou said warmly. He was still getting used to the way her first name rolled off his tongue instead of "senpai." It felt more intimate, like a secret they shared. "Could you come here?"
"Oh? Yes, of course."
As Nene scooted over, Kou slung an arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Nene leaned into him, closing her eyes. Then, to her surprise, he helped her up, and they were standing. The air was still, as if the world were holding its breath.
“I used to think that if I could just save everyone, everything would turn out okay.”
Kou laughed softly, almost embarrassed by his younger self. “I think I was wrong about that, huh! Heck, I wasn't cut out for anything but being a simple man."
He took her hands in his. They were soft, but he could feel the small callouses from her gardening.
“But I don't think that means we're supposed to spend the rest of our lives being afraid of losing people.”
His smile was small at first. Then it grew. Because this part, at least, he was certain of. “I lost people I loved. You did too. And I know we'll probably carry that with us for the rest of our lives.”
His thumb brushed gently over her knuckles.
“But when I think about my future now, that's not what I see.”
Nene's eyes began to sting. She could see where this was going, and the sheer weight of the joy was overwhelming.
“I see you.”
His voice softened, turning into a vow.
“I see us getting older. I see us arguing over stupid things and making up five minutes later. I see us in a bed with sheets of your cute taste, sharing a blanket. I see myself pretending to be annoyed about it even though I'll probably buy backups for laundry days."
She laughed through the tears gathering in her eyes. "K-Kou-kun...!"
“And I see a home.” Kou smiled. “Not because I need somewhere to hide from everything that happened. I loved Mitsuba. I wish he could have heard that in his time; that someone wanted forever with him, even if it meant dying. I really did, but that's not it. It's because..."
He squeezed her hands. “Because I want somewhere to come back to. With you. Always with you."
Then he got down on one knee. Nene stopped breathing.
“So, Yashiro Nene..."
For perhaps the first time in his life, Kou looked completely certain of himself. No hesitation, no fear of the supernatural, just a man looking at the woman he loved. He opened the box, revealing a ring with a pink diamond that caught the sunlight.
“Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you? Will you give me the privilege of being your husband, and let me love everything you are and will be?"
Suddenly, a tear fell into the silver of the ring. Then two, and three. Nene's expression was adorable, her eyes filled with joyful tears, her face scrunched in that way he loved.
"Yes... yes! Yes, I'll marry you, Kou-kun!"
***
The house was quiet in that comfortable sort of way that only came after years of sharing the same space. Morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, warming the kitchen floor while the tea maker hummed softly in the background. It was a house filled with the smell of laundry detergent and spices.
On the wall were two portrait photos of Amane Yugi and Sousuke Mitsuba, back when they were alive. They were surrounded by candles and written wishes they put there every year, decorated with low-effort doodles of the things they liked—donuts and cameras. It was their way of bringing the boys into their new life, ensuring they were never truly forgotten.
Kou Minamoto emerged from the bedroom, already halfway through rehearsing a speech. He was going to showcase an art piece at his new workplace—a graphic design studio he had joined after discovering a passion for visual storytelling. The piece was a portrait of his wife, Nene, in her traditional wedding kimono.
"And I've been trying ever since then to make sure she's happy, well-fed, and not worrying about how fat her ankles are!" he whispered to himself, adjusting his tie.
Nene Minamoto looked up from where she was packing Kou's lunch and smiled to herself. Her white nightgown fluttered as she straightened up, resting her palm over her stomach. She was currently around eight months pregnant with their second child, a daughter. Her swollen belly protruded from her petite frame, and her legs, once dubbed as "daikon" by a ghost, were feeling the strain of the morning.
Even then, she turned around, clasping her hands in front of herself.
"Good morning, Kou-kun! Did you sleep well?"
Kou's eyes drifted over to Nene. His face broke out in a smile as he approached her, his feet moving almost automatically.
"I always sleep amazingly with you around, you know that." Kou was at Nene's side in an instant, his hands framing her face. "You're absolutely radiant today! You're so beautiful, Nene. I love you."
"Hehe, thank you. You're quite handsome with your colorful ties, too, Kou-kun."
"Thanks! I like to think I'm quite lovable."
"You are! Now, give me a morning kiss. I've applied something sweet just now."
As he captured her lips in a kiss, lifting her up slightly into his arms, she couldn't help but giggle. Even after all these years, it still amazed her how easily one quiet greeting could dissolve his composure.
"You said you'd bring Chiba-kun back today," Nene mumbled against his lips, referring to their first, three-year-old son, who was currently staying with Nene’s mother. "He called me in tears yesterday. He misses us!"
"Um, well... you know how it is, I didn't want him to bother you while you're this far along, but I can call your mom to bring him back if you miss him too." Kou chuckled, pulling back to clutch his sketch a bit tighter.
"I'm assuming you loved me enough today to draw something in that canvas, right?" Nene asked, noticing the hidden frame.
"N-no... not necessarily," Kou whispered, beginning to turn around.
"Come on, I wanna see! If you're this hesitant, I'm a hundred percent sure it's covered in me, me, and me!"
"No.... ugh!"
Nene managed to snatch the canvas, but in her excitement, she lost her balance and sat down on the floor with a soft thud. Kou panicked for a second, but she was already laughing, flipping the canvas over. Her eyes widened.
"O-oh...!"
It was her. But it wasn't just her; it was the way Kou saw her—surrounded by light, looking like the goddess of a very small, very happy world.
"You know I would have tried to get it back if you weren't carrying our daughter," Kou said, taking a seat on the floor next to her. "And... if you weren't the love of my life. I feel like it's just beginning."
"Just beginning?"
"You were a really cute girl, Nene. Really fond of the supernatural and looking for boyfriends," Kou teased, earning a playful slap on the wrist. "I, on the other hand, just kind of involved myself with the supernatural world on a whim. Met Hanako and thought he was an easy target, but I'd say he was a good friend. To the both of us. To think you're my wife now... it's been a long road."
He talked of the sacredness of the moment he saw Nene from a distance in the shrine years ago. He talked of the day they decided to start a family, and finally, how he’d love to meet their daughter very soon.
Breakfast passed peacefully. They discussed the due date and the grocery list. It was the kind of mundane life Nene had always dreamed of when she was a girl wishing on scales.
"Hey, Kou-kun...?" Nene leaned over the table.
"Yomē!" Kou lowered his chopsticks with a smile.
"Hehe! Remember the time when Mirai-chan used her clock keeper powers on you and turned you into a good-looking adult?"
"Yeah... I can't believe I let her get away with it, though."
"Well..." Nene blushed slightly. "You really grew into that man, I think. I had to look away back then so I wouldn't fall for you too hard! Your arms are strong, and you have that slight bark at the start of your sentences... you're very handsome."
Kou stared at her, blinking. Then, his face heated way up to his ears as he scratched the back of his head, laughing loudly. "Oh— uh, thank you, Nene! Even though she got away before you got to try out the powers for yourself, I knew you'd be a total babe when you grew up!"
"Really? But I'm round as a balloon."
"And it's perfect. Here, open up." Kou held up a piece of egg.
"Aaah!"
"Tasty?"
"Yes!"
When it was finally time to leave, Kou slipped on his jacket. Nene stepped closer before he could reach the front door.
"One moment, love!"
She reached up, smoothing the lapel of his jacket before straightening his tie. A stubborn strand of golden hair had escaped, and she tucked it neatly back into place.
"There. Please, try your very best today."
Kou blinked, smiling brightly. "Was it that messy, Nene? Or did you just want to touch me?"
"Just a little."
"I see. I've been enlightened!" He cleared his throat, his ears turning pink.
"Have a wonderful day," Nene said. "I'd like to go lay down for a bit, the baby is quite active."
"And you have a wonderful day as well, darling! I'll bring Chiba back tonight."
"Oh, yay! My baby back!"
Kou rested a hand over her belly, the other cradling the back of her head. "If we persist in this good course, Heaven's blessing shall be ours," he whispered, quoting an old family saying. "Hang in there, okay?"
"Okay... I'll miss you."
Nene leaned her weight against him, her eyes droopy with morning fatigue. Kou chuckled, realizing she was already half-asleep, and gently carried her to the nearby couch, draping a blanket over her. He kissed her forehead one last time before heading out into the sun, a man who had finally found what he was meant to protect.