The♡Prince♡For♡Me!

The day had started innocently enough. Well, as innocently as a day could start when Nene Yashiro somehow managed to earn herself a place in the hot springs near the school, bathing opposite to Mitsuba Sousuke.

She still wasn't entirely sure how it happened. One minute, she had been doing her usual work around the school, scrubbing tiles and daydreaming about her inevitable wedding to a handsome aristocrat. The next, Mitsuba had invited her along, and Nene had spent the rest of the morning trying very hard to act normal about it as she focused on making sure her nipples weren't above the water.

Though, even as a high schooler with a penchant for romantic delusions, she couldn't deny how much she hoped Mitsuba wanted to grope them. It was a scandalous thought, one that made the steam of the bath feel ten degrees hotter, but Nene was a girl of simple, albeit intense, desires.

Except something was different. Mitsuba looked... really good today.

Nene had always thought he was handsome, of course. A very angsty prince with a sharp tongue and a camera. That wasn't exactly a controversial opinion. But today? Today, when the sunlight caught his hair just right through the high windows of the bathhouse, Nene's heart had gone... Doki-doki.

She'd blamed it on the excitement. Then she'd run into Kou in the hallway. Doki-doki. His usual delinquent-adjacent charm seemed amplified, his golden hair shimmering like a halo. Then Teru. Doki-doki. The student council president had merely smiled at her, and Nene felt as though she might dissolve into a puddle of pink glitter. Even Natsuhiko, leaning against a locker with his usual smirk, had managed to make her breath catch.

And, somehow, even Akane, who lived and breathed only for Aoi, had managed to make her heart flutter when he adjusted his glasses.

By the time Nene returned to the girls' bathroom that afternoon, she had reached one deeply concerning conclusion: apparently, every boy in school had become handsome overnight.

She pushed open the bathroom door with far more enthusiasm than necessary.

"Hanako-kun!"

Hanako, who had been waiting for her while idly floating near the ceiling, glanced over. "You're late, Yashiro. I was starting to think you'd been eaten by a stray rumor. Or maybe you finally fell into a hole because of those fat ankles."

Nene didn't even snap back at the ankle comment. She was too radiant, too overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the male population. "I had the most amazing day!"

"Oh?" Hanako drifted down, his cape fluttering behind him. He landed softly on the floor, his amber eyes tracking her frantic movements as she set down her bucket.

Nene immediately launched into the story, her hands gesturing wildly. "First I was with Mitsuba-kun, and he looked SO cool today! And surprisingly strong in the arms... And then I saw Kou-kun, and he was so energetic, like a hero from a manga! And then Akane-kun was being all serious, and Natsuhiko-kun was—well, Natsuhiko-kun, but somehow that was charming today!"

Hanako stared. His eyebrows twitched, his playful smirk faltering just a fraction.

Nene continued, completely oblivious to the growing stillness in the room. "And then I saw Teru-kun, and he looked really cute, too! I don't know what happened today, but my heart kept going doki-doki for everyone!"

"...Everyone?" Hanako repeated, his voice dropping an octave.

"Everyone!" Nene squealed, clutching her cheeks. "It’s like the whole school is suddenly populated by princes! Even the boys I usually think are annoying are just... so dreamy!"

Hanako's expression slowly flattened. The gears in his head were turning, but they weren't grinding toward a romantic conclusion. He had already figured it out. There was an apparition involved. There had to be. Probably something ridiculous. Probably something Mokke-related. Honestly, at this point, he wouldn't even be surprised if the little pink creatures had accidentally cursed her while attempting to make her "more princess-like" with some stolen supernatural artifact.

Still, there was one thing he wanted to know. A small, nagging curiosity that pricked at his spectral heart.

Hanako leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands as he floated at eye level with her. He put on his most charming, mischievous expression—the one that usually got him what he wanted.

"So, Yashiro..."

"Hm?" Nene looked up, her eyes still misty with the memory of Mitsuba’s wet hair.

"What do you think of me today?" Hanako asked. He tilted his head, letting his bangs fall over one eye, projecting an aura of mystery and supernatural allure.

Nene blinked. She looked at him. She really, truly looked at him. She took in his old-fashioned school uniform, the seal on his cheek, the way his dark hair framed his pale face, and the intensity in his golden eyes.

Hanako smiled hopefully. Surely, if she was seeing everyone else as some kind of prince, then he—the Honorable No. 7, the ruler of the school’s wonders—would look like an emperor.

Nene tilted her head to the side, her expression turning thoughtful, then slightly pitying. "You're still not really my type."

Silence stretched between them, thick enough to choke a ghost.

Hanako's smile disappeared. It didn't just fade; it vanished as if it had never existed. "...What?"

"You're cute, Hanako-kun! Don't get me wrong," Nene said, waving her hands dismissively. "But not my type. You’re more like... a pet? Or a very troublesome younger brother?"

Hanako stared at her as though she had just committed an unforgivable crime against the supernatural order. He felt a phantom pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his past. "But I'm a prince too! Look at me! I’m mysterious! I’m powerful! I have a cape!"

"No, you're not," Nene said firmly, turning to the sinks to start filling her bucket.

"Why?!" Hanako shrieked, floating upside down in front of her face to force her to look at him. "Give me one good reason! If Natsuhiko is a prince, I’m at least a King!"

"Because you're Hanako-kun," she replied simply, as if that explained the laws of the universe.

"THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!"

Nene cheerfully picked up her cleaning supplies, humming a little tune under her breath. "Anyway! We should probably get started. These toilets won't scrub themselves, and I have to get home early to dream about Mitsuba-kun's shoulders."

Hanako remained frozen in place, suspended in the air like a discarded balloon. For perhaps the first time in his afterlife, the supernatural world had presented him with a problem he genuinely had no idea how to solve. The logic was flawed. The magic was broken. The universe was fundamentally unfair.

And somehow, the problem was Nene Yashiro finding everyone handsome except him.

"This is a curse," Hanako muttered, his shadow lengthening across the bathroom tiles. "This is definitely a curse. I'm going to find whatever did this and I'm going to exorcise it into the next century."

"Did you say something, Hanako-kun?"

"Nothing, Yashiro! Just thinking about how much I hate princes!"

He spent the next hour brooding on top of a stall while Nene scrubbed. Usually, he’d be teasing her, poking at her legs, or trying to get a rise out of her. But every time he looked at her, he saw the dreamy, far-off look in her eyes—a look that was usually reserved for her romance novels, now applied to every male student with a pulse.

Except him.

"Hey, Yashiro," he said suddenly, appearing right behind her.

"Waah! You scared me!" She clutched the scrub brush to her chest.

"If I did this..." Hanako reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He leaned in close, his breath—cold as it was—ghosting over her skin. He gave her his best 'tragic hero' gaze, the one full of longing and centuries of loneliness. "Does your heart go doki-doki now?"

Nene squinted at him. She reached out and poked his forehead, pushing him back a few inches. "Your hands are cold. Are you catching a ghost-cold?"

Hanako slumped. "I give up. I'm retiring. Tell the other Wonders that No. 7 has died of a bruised ego."

"Don't be dramatic," Nene laughed, returning to the toilet. "You're just you. And that’s fine! You don't need to be a prince."

But Hanako wasn't listening. He was already out the window, soaring toward the rooftop. If there was an apparition making every boy look like a shoujo manga lead, it was likely a high-level reality-warper or a very bored Mokke with a cursed bag of sugar.

He found the culprit near the broadcasting room. It wasn't a monster. It was a small, floating incense burner, trailing a faint, pinkish smoke that smelled like roses and desperation. It was a minor spirit of 'Idealized Infatuation,' likely stirred up by the Valentine’s Day rumors that were starting to circulate early.

With a swift movement of his knife, Hanako sliced through the spirit’s core. The incense burner shattered, and the pink smoke dissipated into the chilly evening air.

"There," Hanako grumbled, wiping his blade. "Back to normal. Now she’ll realize that Natsuhiko is a creep and Akane is a psychopath."

He waited a few minutes for the effect to wear off school-wide before heading back to the bathroom. He expected Nene to be back to her usual self—complaining about her bad luck with boys and crying about her ankles.

When he slid the door open, Nene was standing by the window, looking out at the sunset.

"Yashiro?"

She turned around. The dreamy look was gone. She looked tired, her shoulders slumped. "Oh, Hanako-kun. You're back."

"So," he said, leaning against the doorframe, trying to look casual. "Still feeling... doki-doki?"

Nene sighed, a long, mournful sound. "No. It wore off. I just saw Natsuhiko-kun trying to hit on Sakura and he tripped over a trash can. And Kou-kun has a piece of broccoli stuck in his teeth. And Mitsuba-kun... well, he’s just being mean again."

Hanako felt a surge of triumph. "See? I told you. They’re all losers."

Nene nodded sadly. "You're right. My dream is over. I'm back to being a girl with no prospects and giant ankles."

Hanako walked over to her, his mood lifting significantly. He liked this version of reality much better. He reached out, patting her head with a smirk. "Don't worry, Yashiro. You still have me."

Nene looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "That’s the saddest part of all!"

"Hey!"

"I mean," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "Even when I was under a spell that made everyone look like a prince, you still looked like a middle-schooler who forgot to wash his hat. My heart didn't even skip a beat for you."

Hanako’s eye twitched. The victory felt suddenly very hollow. "You know, I could have left the spell on. You could have spent the rest of the week in a delusional paradise."

"You broke it?" Nene blinked. "Wait, it was a supernatural thing? I knew it! Nobody is that handsome in real life."

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome," Hanako said, floating back toward his favorite perch.

Nene watched him for a moment. The sun was hitting him now, the orange glow of the 'Blue Hour' casting long shadows across the bathroom. For a second, just a split second, the way the light caught the gold of his eyes and the sharp line of his jaw made Nene’s breath hitch.

It wasn't the flashy, rose-colored glow of the spell. It was something sharper. Quieter.

Doki.

Nene froze. She clutched her chest, her eyes widening.

"Yashiro? What's wrong? You look like you're having a heart attack. Is it the ankles? Are they finally cutting off your circulation?"

Nene stared at him, her face turning a shade of red that rivaled the sunset. "N-nothing! Nothing is wrong! I just... I missed a spot on the floor!"

She dived back toward the bucket, scrubbing with a ferocity that suggested she was trying to rub a hole through the building itself.

Hanako watched her, confused. "Humans are so weird."

He didn't see the way Nene kept stealing glances at him, her heart thumping a rhythm that had nothing to do with princes and everything to do with a very troublesome, very 'not-her-type' ghost.

Maybe the spell hadn't completely worn off. Or maybe, Hanako-kun was just the only one who didn't need a spell to be dangerous.

"Hanako-kun?" she called out softly after a while.

"Yeah?"

"You're still not my type."

Hanako groaned, throwing his head back. "I get it! Move on already!"

Nene smiled to herself, the secret doki-doki tucked safely away where he couldn't see it. "Just making sure you knew."

"I hate you, Yashiro."

"Love you too, Hanako-kun."

"I didn't say—! Ugh!"

The bathroom fell back into its usual rhythm—the sound of water, the scratching of a brush, and the quiet, constant presence of a ghost who, despite his best efforts, was the only one Nene truly saw. Even if she would never, ever admit it.