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There's something irritating about this situation.
He can't tell what it is. Well, he sort of can. None of the answers are looking quite good right now. He's practically dripping in insecurity.
But does it matter? He's right in a way.
His skin itches. Aches. It's missing, too much, all there. Something's wrong with him, there's something deeply wrong. And when he's got it all figured out, he needs to strip his skin and rework it from the skeleton. Even then it's not enough.
And this guy.. He just walks in, perfectly moulded already. And he tears it down. Almost throws this gift in God's face.
It's whatever. He shouldn't care. It's not his life, not his body. He shouldn't care . He's being ridiculous. But it feels like ridicule. Mocking him. If I was mistaken for a girl, I'd be happy. He's mocking him with that weak grin.
It's sickening. This guy makes him sick.
He still sticks around. What-fucking-ever. It’s work, it pays the bills. They know it both. When they gotta act all buddy-buddy for the livestream, it makes a pit drop in his stomach. A new development, because he hates him now. Unfortunately, he’s a good partner. Co-op, co-work, just as a guy who’ll give unwavering support.
He’s stupid for that. He’ll get himself killed like that. And Yuusai doesn’t know how to feel about the praise and banter he used to never get.
He pushes it all down. This burning hatred. This burning... Something. It’s whatever anyway.
The guy uses a 3DCG avatar, but that mocking is still visible. It's his gimmick, his brand. I'm so girly, you'd hardly believe I'm a boy! He can practically hear the sweet-yet-sinful voice right now. Trying to make a kink outta innocence.
And.. he guesses he should respect that. He’s legal and he's getting his money, or whatever. Straight from simpering, leering fans.
(That makes him sound like a prostitute, he thinks. The vision’s unnerving.)
He can't give out to him too much ‘cause he’d be a hypocrite otherwise. He does something similar — a disguise rather than an avatar, but close enough. But it's not 'cause he's shy and weak or whatever, not like that little cockroach. He's worse.
And his audience can still see it anyway, his features. Feminine, soft, delicate, child-like, baby fat lumping over himself. He hates it, but it's not quite him. So if he doesn't think about it, it doesn't matter.
If he doesn't think about the true implications of any of this, it doesn't matter.
They game. He's a fair match. The guy's an equal to him in this field. They're almost friends. If he were a better person, he can see him doing some friendship shit. He elbows the guy and ruffles his hair and wipes the side of his mouth 'cause he got cream on it. And his dumb golden retriever smile.
It's a warm feeling he knows he'll never have. Because he hates the guy. He knows him, he's seen him and his stupid face. He knows. In his mind, this is all. He'll never say a thing about any of this, but he knows. He'll let it simmer, until maybe he snaps and calls this guy a faggot or something.
He's...
Yuusai wipes a hand over his tired face. It’s covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. Gross.
This is ridiculous.
His eyes, kinda glassy, kinda pissed, they’re boring into the screen of his desktop.
Game, K.O. The guy got a perfect combo and wiped him out flat. His own reflexes were off-balance.
What's up with him recently?
Chat is... He's not looking at chat. He just stares at that avatar, blank. What's wrong with him? He sighs.
The fucker laughs. The stupid fucker's all giggles and smiles, "I never would have expected that from you. But hey, a win's a win."
His voice isn’t tinny like their old calls. Kind of a show to how much things have gotten worse for him. His voice is soft and delicate. He's too nice for his own good. He grips his controller tight, his hands are off-screen anyway. He wants to crush it to junk plastic and useless wires. Just to take the edge off.
That guy’s got a good quality mic. He needs to replace whatever junk he has sitting at his side.
"Good game," he says through gritted teeth.
Heikichi is weird.
"Don't call me Heikichi, it sounds too formal."
Heikichi is weird .
Way short. Too girly. Too soft. He's like, mocking him like this. I'm more masculine than you and I don't even look like a man half the time. God gave me a cock instead of you.
He doesn't even realise he's grinding his teeth and glaring daggers until Heikichi thins his lips and furrows his eyebrows. Stupid motherfucker with cotton candy hair. Not like his is any different. Fuck, does he really have to be so feminine?
"Yuusai, are you okay?"
"Fucking fantastic,” he says, proving his point. Whatever it is.
"You're clearly not."
He thinks it's a joke. No way is this guy actually interested in whatever happens in his life. He just needs a reason to make it his fault. If he says anything, he bet he'll crumple like tissue paper. Sob. Say sorry for more shit he's never done, shit that doesn’t affect him.
Yuusai doesn't know how to feel about him. He's stupid. Heikichi is stupid. Everything is stupid.
"You've been off during our streams. I just wanted to check on you. Are you doing okay?"
The faggot's serious.
"I'm just tired."
Like the idiot he is, Heikichi drags him to that coffee shop down the road. He’s kinda going on, ‘cause Yuusai told him it would keep him awake.
Truth is, he’s sitting through a coffee half-dazed, spacing off. The only thing keeping him awake is that stupid face and the lull of his voice.
Since when did he think about Kichi — correction, Heikichi — so much?
He’s in bed, so he grips his pillow tight. That's a new development. A bit annoying.
He's insecure. He knows this. He knows he's jealous 'cause this guy can dress how he likes and not have to fear about being called a tranny down the road. Or a faker, whatever. He can live life worry-free while Yuusai’s stuck overcompensating.
Yuusai wants what he has. And his cock.
Wait.
No no no, that sounds bad. Like- This guy probably doesn't even use the damn thing. It probably flabs around limp and soft on his stomach as some bigger guy pounds his guts. And if anyone were to touch it, he'd fucking cry. Because he's a girl, and girls don't have dicks.
Why is he thinking about this?
Why is he-
The image twists in his head. Kichi’s face, what would he look like? No, that's not- Ugh, that's disgusting. He shouldn’t defile people in his mind like that. He's disgusting, and he's a faggot.
No wait, he's not, this is technically straight. Even if he pounds this guy's ass, it doesn’t change anything.
Kichi — Heikichi — likes men.
He's more of a man than Yuusai will ever be. Limp, girly cock and all. He calls himself a man, so he is, even when he looks so fucking weird.
(Why can’t he apply that for himself?)
Yuusai's eyes sting. The pillow is damp when he lifts his head.
Since when?
Since when was this ever a thing?
Yuusai is — conflicted.
Yuusai is — gay.
Maybe. He always kind of was. He still likes girls, but a girly boy is still a boy if he calls himself one.
Kichi isn't even that girly.
He's sculpted under that massive hoodie of his, and his voice isn't faggy and whiny. When he yells, he sounds like a guy. And his face isn't really that of a girl's, even if it's soft. His skin must be.. soft.
If he cut his hair, he'd look like a guy.
Yuusai doesn't want him to cut his hair. He kind of.. It would be nice to touch it. And pull- And just- He's being weird. Kichi is weird. Stop calling him Kichi. He's not your friend. You hate him, remember?
It's.. Kichi is weird.
Kichi is weird.
Kichi is cute.
No- He's not.. He's not softening up to him. It's just an objective fact, it's what he makes himself out to be. He's always making peace signs and smiling like that. He's trying to make himself cute and enticing, like he’s charming stupid guys and wrapping them around his lithe finger.
Worst part is, It's kinda working.
No it’s fucking not.
They're at the cobblestone bridge near the bar. What were they doing again? Coffee? And then he drags him outside, over the footpath, says the sunset is pretty from this view down. But he doesn't say anything. He won't.
He'll keep this buried in his soul, because he hates him, and Kichi probably hates him too. (Those are all lies, but it keeps him grounded a little.)
(Is that last one a lie? What would he do if Kichi really hated him?)
(What has he let slip under the radar?)
“—And ‘sides, it’s not like you’re happy seeing my ugly mug all the time. Just think about all the free time you’d have.”
He kind of forgot what he was saying, but that general jest gets something along. But… Kichi’s frowning. Did it really?
"That's mean,” he mumbles. “I wish you wouldn't think of me that way. I really do like you."
Yuusai blinks.. Slowly.. Like he’s stupid. Maybe he is. He probably is, so he throws his hands up behind his head.
"I'm mean, 'Kichi. What's new?" He lolls his head up to the sky.
Kichi was right. It really is pretty.
Kichi cracks a small smile, sort of mellow. Not like those big grins, it's soft. Like the rest of him. Nah, that’s bullshit. He looks kinda smug. Fuck, he’s getting soft.
And- "Finally, you dropped the 'Heikichi' shit."
He did? Oh fuck.
"Watch your language," he mocks.
Kichi looks at him, cocks his head. "I swear all the time on stream. I'm not so delicate, you know."
Well, maybe he doesn't know. He's been thinking about that manifestation Kichi he made up a while ago. He realises that's weird. He goes back to hating Kichi again in his head, but—
"I get what you mean, though. I do look kind of fragile. And weak."
—Even though it's all he's been thinking about for months, it makes him nauseous when he hears it from Kichi's mouth.
"...Don't say that," he says dumbly. "It's not like you can help it. Like I can't."
Before Kichi can really say anything, like how it was a joke or whatever, it kind of just.. spills. Something about this place is making him soft. Vulnerable.
"Kichi, I know I've been kind of hard on you during this whole thing. And I just wanted to say I'm sorry. And it's.. Not your fault. I've been a dick because I'm insecure. I've probably made you uncomfortable too many times."
"What did I say about the way you think about me?" Kichi swirls his iced coffee in his takeaway cup. "It's.. I mean, you are kind of a dick, but that's what I signed up for. You're you. I had to toughen my skin a little."
"Yes, but it's not.. You don't deserve to be treated like that. I don't know, I know you're not- five. But I just.."
Yuusai rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Great, his eyes are stinging.
"I care about you a lot. I don't want to be mean to you. I’m not five either, I shouldn’t be so.. Harsh. When I want to show you I care. I think you're a great person and a great friend. I don't want to ruin what we have with anything.. complicated. Like my middle schooler emotions."
“I get what you mean, but… All your emotions are middle schooler emotions.” Kichi’s kinda cautious, but Yuusai narrows his eyes.
You little shit.
Yuusai yanks his hand away and shoves it into his pocket, glaring back at the guy.
"Asshole, I'm trying to say I love you. Can you not bite back shit while I'm making my confession?"
"Haa- Confession? " His eyes widen, kinda like a deer in headlights. Shit, he’s backing him into a corner.
But soon he's.. laughing. Fuck, now Yuusai feels even more insecure. Fuck this guy, who the fuck laughs at a confessio- ah-
The guy tugs at the front of his hoodie, stepping a bit closer. They're too close, and Yuusai's heart feels raw in his chest. Thumping against his ribcage.
What?
"I never knew you had it in you. I thought you’d be too stubborn.” Stubborn? “I'm kind of.. relieved. I'm glad I didn't have to do it myself."
"Your- Yourself?"
Kichi looks up at him, a grin on his face.
"You're kind of an idiot sometimes."
And the kiss on his lips is soft and sweet.
Yeah, that coffee was kinda forgotten about.
When they’re back at the dormitories, Yuusai just wonders what his deal was about. How he ended up here. With a boyfriend.
…Stupid Kichi.