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“You realize that you don’t have to wear the hat, right?” Tsutomu asks, biting back a laugh. Koganegawa is meticulously (well, as meticulously as someone that impatient possibly can be) pinning a pointed wizard hat back on top of his head. The hat is classic, deep blue with celestial designs and a beaded trim. It looks striking on him, if not a little goofy. Tsutomu privately prefers Kogane without the hat, his fluffy blond hair flying everywhere.
“Yeah,” Kogane mumbles around the bobby pin in his mouth, “but I think it’s fun!”
It takes a handful of pins to keep the hat in place and multiple minutes of fussing. Even with all the pins it flies off whenever they play volleyball, a sport that is beloved by wizards and non-wizards alike. Magic would be easier, but Kogane insists on doing it the “way his mother taught him.” His sticking spells aren’t particularly strong and his staying spells are a little too strong. Tsutomu is sworn to secrecy. Even if he doesn’t understand Kogane’s insistence on (a) pinning the hat, (b) pretending it’s magically kept in place, and (c) wearing a hat in the first place, he treasures the trust.
Something in his heart ripples as Kogane brushes a hand through all his flyaway hat hair. “They’re outdated, we don’t actually need them for casting anymore and they were fashionable more than a century ago,” he says to no one in particular because Kogane certainly isn’t interested in listening.
“Perfect!” Kogane beams as he slides the last pin into place. He looks dorky at best in his sweaty volleyball clothes with the pointed hat perched on the top of his head. Against his better judgement, Tsutomu thinks it's adorable.
Tsutomu has two weaknesses in life. The first is his acute need for praise and validation; the second is standing in front of him, wearing outdated fashions and the stupidest, sweetest grin. Every day, Tsutomu is grateful that Kogane is one of the most oblivious people alive. Anyone else would have sussed out the massive, embarrassing crush Tsutomu is nursing. Based on little winks and amused smirks, some of their teammates already have. It’s the one time that Tsutomu doesn’t want attention, so he sheepishly brushes them all off.
As he struggles to balance staring and looking anywhere but Kogane’s direction, a realization strikes. “Has it occurred to you that you’ll need to take your stinky gym clothes off?”
“And?”
“Your hat will fall off again?”
Kogane considers this for a split second and then shrugs, “If you’re worried, why not help me out?”
Oh no, absolutely not. There is no way Tsutomu can be normal in a situation like that, not a single chance. It’s too close, too intimate, too… touchy. Especially when he knows how stupidly gorgeous Kogane looks without a shirt on. He doesn’t peek often, but he can’t help it once and a while. Even if he was perfectly behaved, it wouldn’t stop Kogane from chattering nonstop while changing, blissfully unaware of the torture he puts poor Tsutomu through. Instead of politely declining, like a sane person, Tsutomu finds himself saying “right, of course,” because being down bad is exhausting work.
Walking to the locker room is the longest three minutes of his life. Tsutomu dreads every step, chewing his lip until it nearly splits. Every nerve ending in his body buzzes with anticipation. He can’t help but play out a fantasy in his mind, one where Kogane returns the aching deep in his heart. In this little daydream the hat is cast aside and easily forgotten. All that matters is hands and mouths on bare skin; little whispers of want and affection filling the air between them.
Of course, none of this happens. It’s a fantasy. Instead, he clumsily helps Kogane peel his sweaty jersey off and pull a clean one on. The hat stays fastened, mostly. Kogane’s hair now looks like a flyaway mess. Tsutomu indulges himself, wondering if his hair would look similar if they spent a night making out.
Be normal, Tsutomu. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he can will this crush away.
Magic can do many things. Erasing feelings isn’t one of them.
Technically it is, actually, but it’s complex magic that even the most accomplished wizards run the risk of bungling. More frequently, attempts cause irreparable damage. Functionally, it pushes the limits of magic.
Magic can do many things, but technology can do nearly as much. They live in an odd world where magic and technology coexist. Mages have smartphones, shitpost on their favorite social media sites, and take copious selfies. Non-mages call on magic users to solve sticky problems, invent their own solutions, and occasionally resent not having their own magical abilities. It’s not perfect, but it's not tenuous either. Magic simply is, just like electricity, fiber-optics, and computer chips.
There are, of course, some divisions. Professional teams are often divided into magical and non-magical leagues. The original pretense was to avoid magical cheating, but the magical leagues soon grew to embrace their advantages and integrated them into game play. Going to magical games is a spectacle, just as much as a competition to earn points. These invisible lines of division permeate much of society, even so, the lines quickly blur. There are schools for magic users, schools for non-magic users, and special classes for magic users that choose to attend non-magical schools. If it weren’t so normalized, Tsutomu would find it dizzying. He goes to one of the premier magical academies, but plays volleyball in a recreational league. Tsutomu’s bloodline, like those of many of his classmates, is ancient. He’s expected to do great things magically, or at least accept a cushy job at a magical institution. Volleyball has to come second to familiar obligation. Still, he can’t help but dream of a career playing the most exhilarating sport in the world.
Kogane is different. He goes to a technical school, takes supplemental magic classes, and isn’t tied down to the expectations of a lineage as old as time. Tsutomu doesn’t resent Kogane’s freedom, but he can’t help but see discovering magical abilities later in life as its own privilege. The only time Tsutomu is grateful that he has to treat volleyball as a hobby is when he remembers that the only reason he’s gotten to meet Kogane is because they both play on the same recreational team.
“Hey, did you even hear me?!” Kogane pouts, waving a hand in front of Tsutomu’s eyes.
Tsutomu bats his hand away, “Of course I did!”
“So, do you wanna?!”
What, precisely? Tsutomu’s face heats up. Is there any world where Kogane just asked if he wanted to tackle him to the floor and kiss the afternoon away?
Kogane blows a raspberry at him, “You totally weren’t listening!”
“Then ask me again!” Tsutomu snaps, ashamed of where his thoughts lead him.
“I asked if you wanted to raid the convenience store and then watch movies at my place,” Kogane pouts at him, “I found some really cool old movie that used a bunch of practical effects to imitate magic.”
Despite the absurdity of the hope, Tsutomu is disappointed, “Oh, sure.”
“If you think the movie idea is lame you can just tell me.” Kogane’s black tuft of hair droops with the rest of his face. The sight of him down always tears at Tsutomu’s heart.
Damage control activated, “No, no! The movie sounds great, I’m just distracted today.” He’s not lying. A movie would be amazing, if he’s lucky he’ll be able to sit close enough to Kogane that when he inevitably dozes off it will be on his chest. He’d be stuck in an uncomfortable position, but it will be absolutely worthwhile. Tsutomu would give most anything to be that close, his bodily comforts are an easy price to pay.
Kogane frowns, “Is everything okay? They aren’t being mean to you at school again, are they? If they are–”
“They’re not!” Tsutomu says shrilly, looking around to make sure no one else is around to hear. In a moment of weakness, he’d admitted to Kogane that he overheard a few girls at school snickering about his new hair cut. To Kogane’s credit, he talked him off a ledge and stopped him from charming all his hair off in a fit of panic. “I just have an exam on spellcraft next week that I’m worried about,” he lies.
A cocked eyebrow tells Tsutomu that Kogane doesn’t buy the excuse, but he doesn’t push. At the convenience store, he buys all of Tsutomu’s favorite snacks. He hopes it’s not because he thinks more girls at school hate his hair.
“How did you remember all my favorites?” He asks as they walk toward Kogane’s, heart breathing a little faster than necessary.
Kogane flashes one of those perfect, dazzling grins, “It’s easy to remember what someone you care about likes.”
An arrow lodges itself in Tsutomu’s heart. He’s sure that if he were in a goofy animated show, it would go right through him and knock him on his back. Instead, the wind knocks out of his lungs, “I’m sorry that I don’t remember any of your snacks.” Is that as pathetic as he thinks it is?
“You don’t need to remember my snacks, dummy,” Kogane unwraps a lemony candy tossing the rest of the bag to Tsutomu. “You have my back in other ways.”
Would Kogane really think that if he knew everything Tsutomu thought of him? The hours he’s spent daydreaming about the crook of his neck or his inner wrists? Of kissing him until both of them forgot everything else in existence and became pure, unadulterated magic? Or the jealousy he can’t quite keep at bay?
Before he can respond, the sky opens. Habitually, Tsutomu traces a small circle in the air, conjuring a giant lilypad above their heads.
“See?” Kogane points to the massive leaf, “you started conjuring the lilypad after I laughed that time you did it by accident.”
Had he really? It was so second nature, he’d never stopped to think when it started.
The rain pours down, bouncing off the lilypad’s surface and keeping them remarkably dry. Instinctively Tsutomu reaches for Kogane’s shirt and pulls him closer, his fingers wrapping tightly around the soft material. “You’ll stay drier this way,” He murmurs. And closer to me, a sneaky voice in the back of his head whispers. Hastily, he lets the shirt go. Hopefully this is an entirely normal interaction between two perfectly normal friends and not a one sided homoerotic fantasy. Tsutomu can and will be normal.
If Kogane finds anything odd about it, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he bumps their shoulders together, grinning wide, “God forbid I get soaked through, I could catch a cold and die.”
Tsutomu’s heart patters in his chest, as it always does when Kogane is close.
“Hey, no need to pout, I’m just teasing. You’re such a grandma about this stuff!”
“Well someone has to be!” He fires back, “Otherwise you might just die!”
Kogane darts out from under the lilypad and spins, “Sure hope a little rain won’t kill me!”
Tsutomu can’t help but grab his arm and pull him back under their conjured umbrella, stifling a laugh, “We both know you’re too good to be taken down by some rain, but that doesn’t mean you should tempt fate.”
Kogane just rolls his eyes.
Yes, everything is fine and normal and certainly not homoerotic. The only traces of homoeroticism are in the traces of Tsutomu’s imagination.
***
Watching movies in Kogane’s room is always an awkward experience. There’s never enough space to comfortably stretch out on his bed and the floor is never as comfortable as they think it will be, so they almost always end up awkwardly pretzeled on his bed.
“I keep asking Ma for a TV,” Kogane says apologetically, perching his laptop on the foot of his bed. They’ll be craning their necks the whole time, but that’s the least of Tsutomu’s concerns. He doubts he’ll remember much from the movie. Kogane is so close and so, so out of reach. His heart cracks a little every time they do this.
“My mom won’t even let me eat snacks in my room,” Tsutomu laughs, reaching for a handful of sugary treats, “says I’ll rot my brain and get crumbs everywhere.”
Kogane lounges next to him, “Sounds miserable. Your mom sure has strong opinions.”
“That’s a nice way to put it,” Tsutomu snorts. “My mom believes that there’s a proper way to do everything. There’s exactly one way to properly make my bed and exactly three colors that are appropriate for a young man’s room. My sheets have to be perfectly crisp every morning and they have only ever been spotless and white. I was allowed to pick a blue comforter but it had to be navy, no patterns. Somehow I negotiated my way into royal blue.” Back home, his bedroom is stark. The walls are empty and the floor practically glistens. It’s unnerving to live somewhere so devoid of personality. He prefers the liveliness of Kogane’s room, even if it always looks like the aftermath of a tsunami in there.
“Damn,” Kogane whistles, “is the boarding school any better?”
Tsutomu has a feeling he knows it isn’t, but wants to hear the confirmation anyway. He humors it, “Of course not. They’re all cut from the same cloth. To be an upstanding member of society, you have to be as perfectly mannered as you are neat and tidy. It’s pretty lame.”
“That’s… disappointing.”
Tsutomu gets the idea that Kogane means more than he’s letting on, but he doesn’t push. Kogane is typically the type to push back, but something about his words are so delicate.
“I always wanted to go to one of those fancy boarding schools,” Kogane admits, toying with one of the wrappers littering his bed. “Ever since I was a kid, I was obsessed with magic. Most of the non-magic kids are. We all have this dream that one day something deep inside us will change and we’ll wake up teeming with magic. Most of us don’t, but I did. And it was strange and new and exciting but I also feel like I’m never going to be able to catch up to everyone else. There’s so much theory to study and endless techniques to practice. It all goes over my head.”
The wrapper crinkles between Kogane’s fingers until it’s formed into a little ball and chucked in the direction of a small trash can. Tsutomu watches it arc in the air, entirely missing the bin. He doesn’t know what to say, so he stares at the ceiling.
Apparently Kogane has more to say, “Everyone at school assumes I can pull a rabbit out of my hat and they don’t really care when I try to tell them that a rabbit still has to be made from something, it’s not just vaporized from thin air. Then they all go to class and bomb their quizzes on the Law of Conservation of Matter as if I didn’t just explain the exact same idea to them,” he laughs hollowly. “It’s all just fancy physics.”
Everything Tsutomu thought he knew about Kogane flipped in a matter of minutes. He’d always seen Kogane as the pinnacle of unflappable confidence, the kind of person who immediately picked himself up and kept going if he fell. Kogane was excited to be alive and by life itself, not bitter and magic hating. “Are you disappointed?” Tsutomu blurts out.
“What?! No, of course not!” Kogane’s shaking his head faster than a wet dog shaking its coat, a glimmer of the Kogane Tsutomu cherishes. “I mean, maybe a little? When you’re a kid you just assume that you can poof whatever you want into existence and it’s not really like that at all. The six year old deep inside me is pretty bummed he can’t conjure a mountain of candy from thin air, but I’m not actually disappointed. I just… wish that I fit somewhere. You know?”
Tsutomu does not know. He does not know what Kogane means, so he stares daggers into the ceiling. He has an idea that silence is the wrong answer, but what other option is there?
Kogane sighs, “You don’t get it, ‘Shiki.” He holds his hand up, as Tsutomu opens his mouth to argue, “Don’t, please. You’re of magic, okay? Your whole family is baked into the system, you’ve been magic as long as magic has existed. I’m not like that and sometimes it’s lonely to have a foot in both worlds.”
“Have I been making you feel less than this whole time?” Tsutomu’s heart drops. The silly hat and the pins to keep it in place are starting to make more sense. He’d chalked it up to one of Kogane’s idiosyncrasies, but maybe he had just been trying to find a way to belong.
“No, never! You could never make me feel like that. I just get in my head sometimes, you know?”
Finally, something Tsutomu does know. “God, yeah,” he sighs, “I’m always worried that I’ll never be good enough. My family expects so much from me and I don’t think that I can possibly live up to them.” What’s scarier is that he doesn’t want to.
“Aren’t you like a magical whiz kid?”
“What?”
“You’re amazing, dumbass. Your casting is nearly perfect and you pick up everything so quickly.”
Kogane thinks he’s amazing. Well, his magic is. “I guess,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“I meant it, you know,” Kogane whispers.
Tsutomu peeks at him, finally tearing his eyes away from the ceiling, “What? That I’m good at magic?”
Kogane’s looking at his hands, picking at a stray cuticle now that he’s tossed the candy wrapper he’d been toying with, “No, that you could never make me feel lesser. You do the opposite, really. When I’m with you, I forget about everything else.”
He blushes, heart pounding. He doesn’t let himself read into it, that will only lead to a broken heart and maybe even a broken friendship.
“You’re not saying anything, fuck, did I say something weird?”
Kogane’s face is in a perfect little pout, his brows knit with worry. To Tsutomu, he’s irresistible. Despite all his best efforts, he can’t help himself any longer. He leans in and brushes his lips against Kogane’s. Even as he does it, he expects rejection. Instead, Kogane pulls him in. Tsutomu doesn’t pull away, instead, he clings to Kogane like a lifeline. He doesn’t know much of anything about kissing, his kisses are clumsy and awkward in that teenage way, but it doesn’t particularly matter. Kogane isn’t much better. Their teeth bump and they both giggle, falling in for another kiss.
Finally, Tsutomu pulls away to whisper in Kogane’s ear, “You say far weirder on a daily basis. That's why I like you.” He runs his hand through Kogane’s messy hair, just as soft to the touch as he’d always imagined.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I could change if I wanted to,” Kogane grins, curling into Tsutomu’s arms as though he’d done it thousands of times before.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, holding Kogane close. It’s better than anything he could have daydreamed. He’d have expected his heart to be pounding in his chest at a moment like this, but it’s not. Instead, he’s at ease. Kogane is safe and warm in his arms. They aren’t making out like in all his fantasies, but this is real life. They’ll do that later, probably For now, sitting together in silence is perfect. They can figure it all out as they go along.
It occurs to Tsutomu that watching movies on Kogane’s bed has just gotten a whole lot easier. For once, his heart swells instead of threatening to crack.