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How does one come out?
Jun found himself asking the question more and more each day—when he was supposed to be paying attention in English, when he sat right across from Tetsu during lunch time, when he ran on the field not realising that he was 4 rounds over his compulsory laps.
Coming out had never been an issue for him, mostly because he had never had to do it, and it was thanks to the family he was raised with.
When 12-years-old Jun talked about the cute, new kid who he shared a book with that morning on their family dinner, no one pointed out how “Ryuunosuke-kun” was a masculine name.
When his second sister announced very loudly, while dancing on the living room table after receiving a text message, that starting from that second, she would be dating someone, his mother yelled at her for breaking one of the legs of the table instead of the fact that she now has a girlfriend.
He didn’t need to tell his family that after pondering for a short while, Jun decided on the word ‘gay’ to label himself.
He found out what the word meant in elementary school—for a short portion of his life, he thought the word meant something gross as that was what Sato-kun from second grade called the corpse a bug, dead after being stepped on by the shoes of 8 different children.
That week, when his eldest sister, born 7 years before him, brought home with her first ever boyfriend, Jun pointed at the boy with spiky hair and ugly jacket before bluntly calling him, “Gay.”
Isashiki Imari hit him over the head with her school bag, as tears started to fill his eyes, she asked him, “Do you even know what gay means?”
“It means gross,” eight-years-old Isashiki Jun proudly said, chest buffed in front of Imari’s boyfriend, not wanting to lose face.
And to his dismay, the boy with spiky hair and ugly jacket laughed. It was a horrible laugh too. Not the nice one, like Miyano-kun from the class next door.
“No!” Imari pulled on his ear and dodged when Jun attempted to punch her, “That’s rude, Jun-chan! Gay is when a boy likes another boy.”
Jun, still trying to land a punch on her face, scoffed. “You’re lying! Why would they have a special word for that?”
Imari shrieked when Jun managed to barely touch her temple, turning to run behind her boyfriend, seeking protection as if he was going to fight a child.
“It’s true,” peeking over his shoulders, Imari stuck a tongue out at Jun. “Ask Mom if you don’t believe me!”
Jun braved himself to ask his mother that night as he was helping her wash the dishes.
“What does ‘gay’ mean, Mom?” He took one of the forks she finished washing to dry with a rag.
“Gay?” His mother looked relax, but slightly curious when the word slipped out of his mouth. “It’s when a man loves a man, Jun-chan.”
Jun’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as he placed the fork on its appropriate place. “What if a girl likes another girl?”
“Then she is a lesbian,” his mother explained, hands skilfully getting all the leftover from the bottom of the big pot she was rinsing with water.
“So if I have a crush on a boy, then I’m gay?” Jun asked again, sparks of interest started to bloom in his mind. He never knew there were words for different people and who they love, he thought that everyone was the same.
“Well, if that’s what you want to call yourself, then you can be gay. Some people like to be referred to as something else.”
Jun gasped, “There are more?”
His mother laughed, and Jun shuddered, recalling the laugh of Imari’s stupid boyfriend. “Yeah, there are more.”
“Can,” Jun muttered before swallowing his cowardly spit, braving himself again. “Can you teach me?”
It was the last plate to be washed, she turned off the running water before drying her hands on her worn-out jeans. “I’ll try my best, Jun-chan. But let me take a shower first, okay? Did you do your homework?”
It was only during middle school that he realised how other families can be much crueler than his.
His very first, actual crush was a catcher on his middle school’s baseball team. He was a little taller than Jun with short hair and bright, shimmering eyes. There’s no particular reason why Jun took an interest in him, but one hot summer, he gave Jun a box of carton strawberry milk.
Jun never liked strawberry milk, but he changed that mind quickly after that day.
As they were both walking home from school after practice, Takaya Hiroomi confessed that he hasn’t been feeling very welcomed at home as of late.
“Why?” Jun asked, concerned, though his mouth was full of the meatbun they decided to get.
Hiroomi took a small bite out of his, shrugging his shoulders heavily not daring to look at Jun in the eyes.
“I think you’ll hate me if I tell you this,” his voice sounded like a whisper and Jun stopped chewing, Hiroomi’s lips quivered, like he was about to cry and Jun just didn’t know what to do.
He stopped walking, grabbing Hiroomi’s arm while his other hand quickly stuffed the rest of his meatbun in his mouth. “Ah dhon’t think ah’ll ebuer heyt you,” he claimed, which roughly translates to “I don’t think I’ll ever hate you.”
“Jun,” Hiroomi whined, “That’s disgusting, swallow your food first, please.”
Jun gave him a playful smile before doing so, then repeating his words of claim, this time with proper articulation.
“Why would you feel that way?” Jun asked again as they both continued to walk, picking his words carefully, not wanting to offend him (his sister told him once that not all family was as lenient and laid back as his mother’s, so it was important to be empathetic and aware of other people’s condition).
Hiroomi, taking the last bite of his meatbun, sighed. He looked down, gloomy, it was a horrible sight.
“I don’t know,” he rubbed his arms, “last night, we were watching the TV. The movie that was on had a scene where two boys were holding their hands, my mom immediately changed the channel and dad went on a rant about how inappropriate movies these days were…”
Jun felt a pang in his heart.
“…and I guess it hurt me a little, because I had a crush on a boy when I was in elementary school.”
Jun’s already frowning mouth twisted even more, how could someone say something like that?
Hiroomi paused his steps, “Jun.”
Jun mimicked him, “Yeah?”
“You—” Hiroomi looked up, eyes filled with tears threatening to overflow and Jun (out of instinct) went to place his fingers under his eyes to wipe them away, but stopped himself halfway when Hiroomi decided to wipe them away himself. “You don’t hate me, right?”
Jun furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head furiously. “No! I won’t hate you just because you’ve had a crush on a guy,” he placed a hand on Hiroomi’s shoulder, attempting to take a peek at his face behind his fingers. “If it makes you feel better, my sister has a girlfriend.”
Hiroomi’s sobs stopped abruptly at the newly found information, he slid his fingers so that his eyes could meet Jun’s in between them. “Are you lying?”
Jun scoffed, “Why would I be lying? You can go and ask my sister once we get to my house.”
“I don’t know that was possible,” Hiroomi whispered, amazement lacing every syllable he spoke.
“What? Having a girlfriend?”
Hiroomi shook his head, “No, I meant—I didn’t know you are allowed to date someone who’s the same sex as you.”
Jun grinned, recalling his conversation from five years ago with his mother, “There are a lot of things we don’t know about, but now at least you know that you can always date a boy.”
The boy Takaya Hiroomi ended up dating had not been Isashiki Jun, and though it hurt at first seeing Hiroomi shyly holding hands with the captain of the volleyball team on their third year of middle school, Jun learnt how to let the feeling go.
(With the help of his sisters, but don’t tell them that).
When he entered Seidou as a pitcher, Isashiki Ichigo was a first-year fashion design student whose manga finally debuted in a prestigious shoujo magazine. Jun, despite not explicitly saying it, felt incredibly proud when he overheard his classmates speaking about how “Ichigo Ichigo-sensei (Ichigo’s mangaka pseudonym) has the best drawing style ever”.
It took every fibre of his being to not march up to them and show off that he was the brother of said Ichigo Ichigo-sensei.
As Jun was starting to feel drowsy from the noise, his back practically killing him after running 10 laps the day before, he started to close his eyes. Though before falling into deep slumber, he caught a voice complaining about how one of the female side characters seemed too attached to heroine, assuming out of the blue that she might be a lesbian.
The voice said the word with such disgust, that just as dream was starting to sweep him off his feet, Jun decided to tell anyone that he was gay unless he trusts them with all his heart.
Now, it wasn’t like Jun doesn’t trust Fujiwara Takako.
In fact, it was the exact opposite.
If a zombie apocalypse was to suddenly invade Tokyo, Takako would be the first person he would grab by the hand. Who cares about Tetsu’s batting power? Jun’s good at batting too, a zombie apocalypse is a matter of staying alive and dying, and Jun would rather place his life in the hands of Fujiwara Takako than Yuuki Tetsuya.
Takako is smart and reliable, she listens to his complains about his back and his grades and even offered to teach him mathematics once when even Ryousuke gave up on doing so.
She’s an angel, basically, it was no surprise that she was one of the most talked-about person in their year.
Every day, there’s always new news about Takako. Whether it coming from the girls sitting a few rows in front of him talking about her new pencil case, or whether it being from the teacher praising her polite attitude. As long as they weren’t talking shit about her, Jun never cared.
Well.
Until a few days ago.
Words flew from one mouth to the other and suddenly Jun was bombarded by the claims and gossips that Takako likes him. Like… like like him.
Shit, Jun thought while hitting a ball to the very left of the baseball field.
“That was a foul, Jun-san!” Kuramochi called out with a sly grin and Jun turned around to glare at the wannabe-shortstop who only laughed in return.
Shit, Jun thought again, his mind heavy. He was unfocused. His usually baseball-filled mind was now filled with ways on how to find come out to Takako. How to straight out tell her that he was gay.
He didn’t know if the rumours going around was true, but if they were, he would rather come out to her first before she confessed her feelings to him. The thought of Takako being sad and even crying physically made him want to beat the shit out of someone, and if he was the one to make her feel that way, that means he has to beat the shit out of himself.
It was like an eternal paradox (it really wasn’t), and Jun wanted to stop thinking about that.
He wasn’t going to hurt Takako, he tried to assuring himself as he pulled Takako aside one evening in the middle of individual practices. Takako was going to understand.
Under the bright moonlight, Jun stood straight up, sweat traveling down from his head to his temple to his chin. He started down at Takako who seemed to be looking at everything but him.
Jun sighed.
“Listen, Fujiwara-san,” he started out soft, but his persona came out on the last bit of her name and he wanted to kick himself for sounding like a delinquent robbing an innocent student of her money.
Jun scratched the back of his neck, looking away from her before taking a deep breath.
You got this, Jun.
“People have been saying… things,” Jun started again, with long pauses in between each word because he wanted to take his time picking out the right words. “Things about… us…”
Takako grimaced and Jun slapped his palm against his forehead softly. This was going much worse than he had expected.
“Listen, the point is, I just wanna tell you that I—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Fujiwara Takako slammed her legs together, hands on her chest before bowing in front of him. A full bow, 90 degree, Jun almost fainted at the sight.
Was she going to confess?
Oh God.
Oh God.
“Fujiwara-san—” He tried again, but Takako beat him in a voice so loud and grand that he was sure it could cut a mountain in half.
“I’m sorry, Isashiki-kun, but I like girls!”
Jun blinked.
Takako stood in front of him, cowered down to the point where her knees were shaking with her arms now raised in front of her as if she was shielding herself from upcoming attacks.
What did she say?
“Fu—” After a full minute of not knowing what to say, Jun decided to force his voice up his dry throat, “Fujiwara-san?”
She bowed her body even more, perhaps at an angle of 85 degree this time. “I am so sorry, but I can’t satisfy your—”
“Fujiwara-san,” it was Jun’s turn to cut her off. Takako’s breath got heavy, and guilt began to fill him up from the bottom of his toes to the tip of his sweaty hair. He decided in wasting no more time on the big reveal; “I’m gay.”
Takako held her breath, and with one swift motion, she looked up at him.
“You’re gay?”
Jun nodded.
“You’re gay?” She asked again, this time pointing at him. Jun nodded again, arms extended to show how genuine he was.
“You like boys?”
He sighed, “Yes, Fujiwara-san, I like boys. I want to date a boy, I want to hold hands with a boy, I want to kiss a boy.”
Takako gasped, her eyes looked like they were sparkling. She, at that moment, reminded Jun a little of Takaya Hiroomi.
“I like girls,” she placed her hand on her chest (a motion to indicate ‘herself’), “I want to date a girl and hold hands with a girl and kiss a girl.”
Jun couldn’t help the small smile on his lips, crossing his arms on his chest, “S’that so? Good for you, Fujiwara-san.”
“Does this mean that you don’t like me?” She asked.
Jun shook his head, “Nope. Because I’m gay.”
Takako nodded, placing a finger on her chin, staring down at the ground in contemplation. “And I’m a lesbian.”
“That means you don’t like me,” Jun concluded, his chest feeling light and fluttery, still slightly amused at the coincidental reveal they both were stuck in. This ended on a good note, no heartbreak, no crying, and he found out Takako was in the same situation as him all along. This outcome was a thousand times better than what he had initially expected.
Takako pointed a finger at him, “Gay?”
He nodded before doing the same thing to her, “Lesbian?”
One. Two. Three seconds of staring at each other before they burst into laughs, Takako had to hold herself up on the wall. Jun fell on his butt, trying his best to supress his laugh on the palms of his hands.
Takako took a deep breath after her teary laughing session, crouching on the ground so that she was on eye level with him. She gave him a grin, “Do you think anybody else in this club is gay?”
Jun’s dying laugh returned once more before nodding his head, “From now on, I’ll just assume that everyone I speak to is.”
Takako’s giggle rang freely through the chilled, night air, “What a great idea, Isashiki-kun. I like the sound of that.”