ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴏғ ᴀ ɢʜᴏsᴛ's ʟᴏᴠᴇ

"Okay! Fine! I'll do it." Chapter 1

ℍanako had noticed Yashiro hasn't been acting as she usually does, as instead of complaining, she was for the most part silent. Hanako stared as she fiddled with the broom moving it back and forth in the same spot for ages showing no emotion. If he let her keep at it she'd end up wearing a dent into the tile...

"yaaashiirooo~ what's up with you today? Some pretty boy say your legs were ugly or something?" He snickered a little after the last statement. she slowly turned her head towards him frowning.

"Ugh. No Hanako, nobody did anything," she said, a sigh escaping her lips. She put the broom down leaning against the freshly cleaned sinks. "that's the problem." she whispered so quietly that he almost couldn't hear it.

"Oh~? What was that?" he said as he tilted his head. Curiosity currently enveloping him. Hearing that, she quickly turned her head away from him, ears a soft pink shade. "nothing." Nene told him quickly.

He stared at her for a while, then finally, she said something after letting out a long melancholic sigh.

"It's just.. I keep seeing all the girls around me getting love letters, talking about dates, first kisses, and crushes; it's just kind of lonely I suppose. Nobody has ever even confessed to me before, I've only seem to recieve rejections. I-I just want at least one love letter to my name! I would like to be noticed like everyone else is too..." By the end she started sniffling a little, tears welled up in her eyes. He was lucky to have understood the last bit, as it was mostly despaired mumbles.

He looked away from her and cleared his throat. "Oh. That's what this is about. Well, I'm sure there's people that do, you.. Just ah- haven't noticed them yet." He tried to come across as not overly anxious.

"Now, uh- go back to toilet cleaning dear servant of mine!" he turned back to face her, face twisting into a playful grin. He got off the sink that served as his makeshift chair and returned to his ghostly floating.

At least she had cheered up a little, even if it quickly turned into boredom immediately after.

By the time the bathroom had been fully rid of all dirt that was could be spotted, it was time for the girl to go home. He bid her a somewhat reluctant farewell and went back to the toilets.

"hey you, Mokke find me a pen and paper will you?" he told told a few of the rabbit shaped marshmellow supernaturals as he threw some candies at them. Not long after, several Mokke came back with a pen and some sheets of plain paper.

He placed the pale loose leaf sheet on the windowsill. He couldn't help but feel like a total idiot as he idly tapped the stolen pen on the paper pondering what to write. The whole time his face was as red as a ghost could possibly be. After a while, he finally began writing.

He sat there for a large chunk of time, till the moon hung at the height of the sky. He supposed it was to be expected though, he hadn't written much of anything as poetic as this since he was in school really. He didn't care much how long it took him really, as long as it made her happy.

The final message had read,

"Dear Yashiro Nene,

Would you believe me if I told you I loved you? I wonder how you'd react. Maybe you'd laugh it off and act like I'd never said anything. Hard to say wether that would be good or not, because god, your laugh is lovely. Maybe you'd just plain reject me, but I know you'd do it in the nicest way possible if you knew what I said wasn't in jest. No matter what, you'd always be the one I'd love.

Sinecerely, the admirer, who wishes to stay unknown."

The one thing he'd decided to be dead set on was how he felt, and especially telling how he felt. He himself tried to not even think about it. Writing about it threw his feelings right at him and forced him to acknowledge it, and god was that an embarrassment.

Even just doing it through a paper left him feeling raw and exposed. He felt he almost shouldn't let her see it ever and completely try and erase any of it happening in his mind.

But, it would make her feel good. The ends out-weighed the means.

He went and stuffed the thing in her locker carefully, throwing caution and sanity to the wind. After all, it wasn't like she'd ever know who wrote it anyway.

𝔸 / ℕ
Ggg i think to view my writing as less cringey, I have to have someone audibly tell me its good. But, it's awkward shoving my writing in people's faces asking for opinions though. (besides not everyone reads as quick as i do.

(author note has been rewritten because the entire story is being rewritten. And a/n clutter is an annoyance lul.)

-LULU