Say My Name
An Akagami no Shirayuki-hime (Snow White with the Red Hair) Fanfic
There’s a ritual to coming home. Shirayuki knocks twice before unlocking the door, slips off her shoes, then calls, “I’m home” to the empty house. It’s a simple habit, and Ryuu appreciates the routine. Garack appreciates clean floors.
“It was busy at the pharmacy today,” she tells the kitchen as she puts away her groceries. She doesn’t know if either of her housemates are actually listening, but they do often come to greet her when she gets home, so she talks anyway. “I don’t know why everyone decided to come pick up their medicines today, but hopefully tomorrow will be a little slower.”
She finishes with the groceries and searches for her notebook. It’s not open on the counter where she left it. She checks the table beside the couch and her nightstand before finally finding it on the bookshelf. She should have checked there first. She knows how much Ryuu likes to stay organized.
“Sorry for having to leave in the middle of our conversation. I lost track of time. Do you want to continue now?”
Two knocks, for “no”, sound on the cabinet, too high for Ryuu to reach easily. Garack then. Ryuu’s probably distracted somewhere reading.
“Okay.” She flips to her current page anyway, finishing up the notes she hadn’t been able to jot down before running out the door. If any of her coworkers found this notebook, they’d probably think she was crazy studying something like ghosts, but she has excellent sources.
She does live with some after all.
She finishes her paragraph, punctuates it with a firm period, then puts the notebook back on the shelf. It’s a good place for it.
“Obi? Would you come here?” She’s never sure how loud to ask. He insists he’ll hear her no matter what, but they’ve never actually tested either the volume or distance.
When she turns back to the kitchen, though, he’s there, sitting on the counter separating it from the living area, swinging his legs.
“Miss, how many times do I have to tell you, you’re supposed to say my name three times.”
She folds her arms. It’s an old argument, and not one she plans on backing down from. “I’m not going to summon you, or whatever that is. I’m not going to make you come if you don’t want to.”
He grins like a lion lazily showing his teeth. “And who says I don’t want to?”
“I don’t know if you’re busy or not. I can just as easily call you like a normal person and let you decide whether to come or not.”
His mouth pulls into a frown, and his shoulders fall into a sulk, though she can’t imagine why. “That’s not how this works.”
“You came didn’t you?”
He doesn’t bother to answer, just fixes her with a dull stare. Then he rolls his shoulders and lets the annoyed look slide off his face. “What did you need?”
“Oh, I–” She can’t remember. There was something she planned to say, but mostly she’s just used to having him around, keeping her company as she cooks supper, asking about work, and teasing about anything and everything he can think of.
She’s saved by a knock at the door.
“Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have called you. You should go.”
He glances down the hall to the door and grins. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I have guests.”
He nods at the door. “Go ahead.”
She frowns. She doesn’t know what he’s planning, but whatever it is, it’ll be trouble. “Fine. Come here.”
His eyebrows lift, probably surprised she gave in so easily, then he slides off the counter and follows her to the door. She stops at the coat closet, opens the door–
And shoves him in.
She knows he only stumbles inside because she surprised him. This trick won’t work a second time. She shuts the door and slides a chair under the knob.
“Miss!” The indignant cry is muffled through the door. “How could you?”
“I don’t want you causing trouble with whoever’s at the door!”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do, just not with my guests.”
The knob jingles as he fidgets with it. “You know I’ll be out of here in a minute.”
She does, she just hopes to send whoever’s at the door away before then. She needs to hurry though. She straightens her hair and clothes, smiles like she’s not hiding a ghost (or would he be a poltergeist?) in her closet, then looks out the peephole.
Her hand is already on the knob, but she freezes when she sees an all-too-familiar set of green eyes narrow in impatience, highlighting the mole underneath.
She . . . cannot deal with this right now. She’s too tired to be polite to him, and Obi will be out any minute–
Obi.
She runs back to the closet, pushes the chair aside, then opens the door.
“Oh good,” he says, folding his arms. “You’ve finally taken pity on me–”
“Scoot over!” She shoves him aside, then squeezes in beside him and shuts the door.
“Miss! What are you doing?”
“It’s Raj,” she explains.
“Who’s Raj?”
“My neighbor. He keeps trying to ask me out and won’t listen when I say no.”
Obi frowns and glares straight through the wall. “So just pretend you’re not home.”
She sighs. “What do you think I’m doing? The last time I tried that, he checked all my windows until he found me.”
Obi’s face grows stormy. A second later, it’s cleared, and he grins at her, mischief in every line of his face. “You know, Miss, I’m very good at getting rid of people. It’s kind of my specialty.”
She crosses her arms, knocking one elbow into the door, and the other into the hanging coats. “Like you did with me when I moved in?”
His dramatic sigh ruffles her hair, and it hits her how small the closet really is. “Those were special circumstances.”
She doesn’t see what was so special about the circumstances. From her perspective, one day everything in her house fell apart on its own and she didn’t have time to fix them, and the next, everything was miraculously fixed, and Obi had shown up to inform her that two ghosts shared her house and were hoping to establish some rules so the three of them could live together peacefully.
That look on his face is bothering her, though, and she really doesn’t want anything horrible to happen to Raj, however much he bothers her. “I don’t like your methods of getting rid of people though. I don’t want him to die, be possessed, turned into anything–I just want him to leave me alone.”
“Shirayuki, I know you’re in there!” The voice darts through both doors, and Shirayuki winces. “I heard you talking. Let me in!”
Obi grimaces, then nods. “I can do that.”
The mischievous look hasn’t gone away. “You’re not allowed to do anything bad to him!”
He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “Nothing supernatural at all.”
It feels like a trap. “Really?”
There’s already not much space between them, but he steps forward, crowding her against the wall. He’s not touching her, but it’s a near thing. “Really.”
This is definitely a trap. “O–oh.”
He rests his forearm on the wall above her head and leans even closer. A voice in the back of her head points out that he’s leaned away from the door, leaving plenty of room for her to slide out. She suspects that’s on purpose.
A much louder voice draws her attention to how he’s so close she can feel the heat radiating from him, to the sliver of his collarbone peeking out of the neck of his shirt, to his ruffled hair just begging her to comb it down–or mess it up further.
“I have a few ideas, actually,” he purrs in her ear, raising the hair on the back of her neck.
There are reasons to say no. Good ones, she’s sure. She just . . . can’t think of any right now.
“That sounds good,” she manages. Heat creeps up her neck as she realizes how that sounds. “I mean, it sounds like a good way to get rid of Raj. Since, um, he’s not listening to me.”
Obi’s low chuckle rolls over in his mouth before slipping through his lips. It draws her eyes and her mouth goes dry.
This is really not fair. He’s going to be insufferable later.
“Hmm.” His breath ghosts over her ear, and she hopes he doesn’t see how she shivers. “Maybe I should let hi in, then. Let him see how we’re enjoying ourselves in here.”
That teasing note hasn’t left his voice, and she knows he expects her to get embarrassed and say no. With him, though, often the best defense is a good offense. “Alright.”
His eyebrows skyrocket and his mouth falls open. It’s only then that she notices how his pupils pulse wide and his breath is coming just as fast and short as hers.
Oh.
He’s not–he’s not just messing with her.
“Really?” he asks, and she gives a quick nod. He jerks a finger and the knocking that had faded into the background cuts off suddenly. There’s a yelp, then a thud, and she winces.
“That was mean.”
He shrugs, not taking his eyes off hers. “I just opened the door. It’s his fault he fell.”
She hears Raj get up and walk towards them. She holds her breath, but his footsteps pass them, and she can hear him calling her name in the kitchen.
“Don’t want him to find us just yet?” Obi murmurs. Her face grows hot. He’s grinning at her and she wishes for the millionth time she didn’t blush so easily.
Still, the best defense . . .
“I just want to give him something to find.”
“Eh–?”
He cuts off as she links her fingers behind his neck and hauls him down. The sound of surprise he makes is very satisfying, and when Raj finally stumbles on their hiding spot, she’s forgotten why they were there in the first place.