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“So you want to, then?”
The question didn’t weigh anything at the time. Hirano hadn’t given it much thought, and he’d said just that. “I mean… I don’t really care.” The words added on, spilling from his lips in a way his brain hadn’t truly caught up with just yet, “I don’t think I’ve ever really been interested in that kind of thing.” Only to follow with that internal train of thought – It’s normal to want to kiss someone?!
Yet that night, he found the crickets sounded akin to the incessant buzzing of an afternoon alarm you’d hit snooze for one too many times. Like an afternoon nap you’re rudely awoken from by the knocking of a door after you’ve slept through dinner, only to finish stirring and find indents running from your wrist to the bend of your elbow. It was familiar, and yet it was more like the hazy afterimage of a thought than anything tangible.
Back in grade school, Hirano had similarly been asked “Do you like anyone?” Except back then when they were young, to children who would share the other half of their popsicle with a stranger overheated on the street, liking didn’t mean sharing the parts of yourself you’d rather look away from. It meant childish squandering of who had the coolest marble in their pockets or who shared the last strawberry milk with you a week ago at lunch. And even as a child, the people around Hirano were well-acquainted with his motherly nature. To Hirano, who was always the one giving his milk away to some other kid just to keep them from having a tantrum in the middle of the cafeteria, that kind of ‘liking someone’ never meant a thing at all.
“I don’t like anyone” he had answered. They hadn’t believed him.
It was the first time Hirano had felt that something must have been wrong with him. So the question of whether he’d wanted to kiss anyone, although seemingly empty, was actually the second time the thought crossed his mind. That in some way there was a part of him that had to be fundamentally wrong. Even then, there are plenty of things that make it more confusing than an elementary matter of ‘not liking’ or ‘liking’.
Like right now, watching a girl’s hand brush Kagiura’s arm, Hirano isn’t sure what to think of it. His initial thought is that it bothers him. His second is that he knows Kagiura is popular. Except maybe seeing it somehow isn’t the same as hearing about it. They’re usually at their all-boys school, without any girl in sight to see his roommate score a point in basketball with a cool finish or flash a boyish smile. So he lets himself assume that the reason it bothers him is just because he’s used to being the closest to his roommate. He’s used to being in close quarters with him, to sharing boring weekends with him, to being in his presence. It’s not that it’s not me, it’s just that it shouldn’t be her, he decides.
Kagiura gives the girl a small smile. The expression is ultimately a dismissive one, and also a genuine display of politeness nonetheless. The girl looks disappointed despite the gesture, moving to join her friends again as they whisper to one another.
The brunet doesn’t give another glance, already jogging up to Hirano. The taller of the two beaming as he asks, “Did you see that?”
Hirano’s appearance is relaxed, the same look he typically wears as he walks through the halls present even in their outings. Some of Kagiura’s teammates had wanted to practice at a new outdoor court near the mall, and when Hirano had said he had some shopping to do Kagiura had invited him to tag along so they could go together. Hirano huffs carefreely, his tone remains the same lightness, “Yeah, nice shot.”
The thought–Aren’t you just practicing anyway–doesn’t occur to him. Not when Kagiura always looks cool, even just running warm-ups. The brunet’s smile broadens, and he turns away from Hirano. He waves, calling out, “Later, I’m headed out!”
The guys on Kagiura’s team barely have time to blink before Kagiura’s taken off, his roommate in tow. Hirano’s eyes fall to where Kagiura’s hand covers his own, and with it comes a pricking sensation that nags at his chest. He doesn’t take his hand back. Not until the other comes to a stop, his eyes lingering on how his fingers now look over Kagiura’s own for the brief moment before they’re separated. That feeling of something pulling at him subsided.
Kagiura hums, not noticing anything, “So, where to?”
There’s the bookstore, a bakery, clothing shops, an assortment of different places that a typical day at the mall could be wasted away in. Yet none of it is what Hirano needs today. He points, his voice even, “There.”
Kagiura’s eyes wander to where Hirano points. He blinks, “A pottery shop? What didya need there?”
Hirano lowers his hand, glancing at Kagiura, “Not me. The pottery club wants the student council to approve their funds for a club event, but we have to confirm the prices first.”
Kagiura follows behind him, musing, “Wow, so diligent. Is that really something you have to go in person for?”
Hirano doesn’t say anything, because it’s not. As long as the students bring in a receipt or a promotion flyer, their request can be approved. Only, the day Kagiura had said he’d be going to the mall, Hirano wasn’t thinking straight. The reason to tag along had already left him before he could stop it. He answers straightforwardly despite the voice in the back of his head that tells him he’s full of it, “I don’t have to, but it doesn’t hurt. After all, sometimes there’s better deals on weekends.”
Kagiura whistles softly. Something else catches his attention, a couple sitting in the corner of the shop. The man’s thumb swipes the woman’s cheek, leaving a smear of green paint behind, sending both of them into a fit of laughter. Kagiura glances back at Hirano, who’s currently hyper-focused on the flyers at the front of the shop, a smile playing on the edge of his lips. Kagiura suddenly suggests in an easygoing tone, “Hey, let’s paint something.”
The blond turns from where he’s knelt in front of the store’s flyer board, “Huh? You want to?”
Kagiura shrugs, hands in his pockets as he answers intentionally, “No sense in only coming out here to look at flyers.”
Hirano could say–But you practiced basketball for some time already–or he could ask, Aren’t you tired? The words die in his throat, because the slight tinge of pink to Kagiura’s ears speaks for itself. He wants to spend time with him, and Hirano enjoys his time with Kagiura enough not to say anything.
Hirano hums absently, folding the pamphlet he’d grabbed back up, before answering as he stands straight again, “Sure then, not like we don’t have time.” The small dip in Kagiura’s brow relaxes, his shoulders returning to a more laid-back state.
The two peruse the shelves of unpainted pottery, Hirano’s eyes stopping on a particular piece. It’s a Shiba Inu figurine that fits the size of his palm, the eyes closed in a smile as it wears a silly but warm expression. Hirano glances at Kagiura who’s focused on a different shelf.
…It totally looks like him.
Moments after he sets the Shiba Inu down at their table before collecting his paints, Hirano looks up to see Kagiura placing a piece of wolf pottery on the table across from him. Hirano glances back at the pottery with a contemplative expression, Kagiura doubling over as he tries to catch his breath. Perplexed by Kagiura’s reaction, Hirano questions, “What’s with you?”
Kagiura’s fit of laughter dies down, his tone cheerful, “The wolf looks like you..” He points to the slight furrow of the wolf’s brow, the gentle curve of the ceramic wolf's calm gaze. The brunet’s smile is friendly as he finishes with a softer tone, “..See?”
Hirano’s ears heat in a way he can only hope isn’t visible, and he turns his head slightly as he looks away to respond with a hint of embarrassment in his tone, “..You’re seeing things.”
Kagiura hums, not saying anything more. Though the smile on his face stays, present as he gets to work. A sudden touch as they’re working and chatting draws Hirano’s attention, an arm brushing the back of his neck. He looks over his shoulder to see a woman passing with a man, the woman giving a quick embarrassed, “Sorry,” as she passes by. The rows of the pottery shop are narrow, it’s to be expected.
Hirano doesn’t think anything of it, the moment passing all the same. He carries on with painting the ceramic, fingers occasionally brushing Kagiura’s as they reach for paints or brushes. They talk about random things from what color they’ll use where or what their plans are for the next week, and still Hirano thinks nothing of the passing touch.
It’s not until after, when Kagiura’s arm brushes his neck accidentally as he reaches for the appointment card the shop clerk holds out that it crosses Hirano’s mind. The blush to Kagiura’s ears caught his attention. The woman’s embarrassment earlier comes back to mind, the way she’d quickly taken her hand back as she’d continued passing. Something that felt like an overreaction, and how the same motion is now causing a quick flush to bloom on Kagiura’s face.
Is it really such a big deal?
Kagiura’s blush passes as he hands the card to Hirano, already knowing the more responsible of the two will be less likely to lose it before their pottery is ready. Hirano’s eyes follow Kagiura’s hand as they turn to leave, lingering on the way he rubs the back of his neck as his blush dies down fully.
Back at the dorms, Kagiura stops as they enter the room. He turns slightly toward the door, murmuring something along the lines of, “I should probably take a quick shower.” He was playing basketball for some time earlier.
Kagiura stands there instead, not quite willing to leave just yet as his eyes pierce Hirano’s in the way they always do, sincere and whole. Like the moon swallows the shadows of a tide on a cool day, rising and steep. Hirano finds himself wanting to step forward, to reach out to Kagiura and yell anything until it truly sinks in just what he’s thinking. And yet he can’t, because he doesn’t know what that is either. He’d be better off shouting his nonsensical thoughts into the mirror until something sticks enough to make the slightest bit of sense. His fingers tremble at his sides, his lashes twitching. He’s still not sure what the barrier is, and it’s endlessly frustrating. It doesn’t feel like it’s only a matter of whether he can love Kagiura in the same way regardless.
Whether he can.
Kagiura suddenly asks “Can I use those fifteen seconds now?” Hirano doesn’t say anything, but he’s not expecting it to bother him. He nods finally, and Kagiura’s fingers brush his own. It’s a movement Hirano’s felt before, but now it leaves him tense. Everything suddenly feels heavier in the moment. The woman’s embarrassment from before, Kagiura’s hopeful gaze, the confusion on his friends faces as he’d said he’d never been interested in kissing anyone before. All of it is suddenly grappling for purchase in his head, and none of it is sticking. None of it is making any sense.
His face scrunches before he can keep it in as his hand yanks back. The soles of his shoes twist against the floor of their shared room, Kagiura’s eyes widening as the sound of the door shutting behind Hirano ends with a resounding click before Kagiura can even finish calling out, “Hirano–?!”
Hirano’s breath shakes with a sharp intake, and he really is a fool. This entire time, all he’s thought is that he can’t imagine that the feelings he has for Kagiura are the same as Kagiura’s feelings for him.
Oh, oh. This entire time he’s spent letting himself be tortured by thoughts of whether he could love him. But that’s not it, is it? He knows everything about Kagiura. Straight-forward, genuine, whole-hearted Kagiura. For the other, who looks into his eyes so consumingly to so patiently be waiting for an answer to his confession as long as it’s Hirano’s own. Kagiura, who’s said directly to him that things like kissing aren’t why he wants them to be together–but rather simply something he wants to do because he loves him. Hirano who’s known since the loving someone Kagiura referred to was simply wanting to be with him more than anyone else in the world. Hirano, who already thought that was what it meant to love before the words had even left Kagiura’s mouth.
If in his own thoughts there’s no room for doubting Kagiura’s feelings then what he’s really been wondering isn’t whether he could love Kagiura. He’s been searching and searching for whether his feelings for Kagiura had to be the same in order to be returned.
When being the same was never the meaning of any of it anyway. What he’s really been afraid of is whether that love can exist if it’s different. He hasn’t really been searching for his own answer to Kagiura’s confession at all. No wonder he’s gotten nowhere. No wonder those 15 second touches did nothing to calm the raging uncertainty within his mind. This entire time he’s only been considering Kagiura’s feelings from a perspective of Kagiura’s own happiness. He hasn’t found the answers to his questions because they were never for him in the first place..!
His shoes pound against the pavement, the soles of his feet burning until he somehow ends up in the empty student council room, though he’s not too sure what led him there. He’d thought of finding Ichinose, his old first year roommate’s words from before coming to mind, “There’s no law saying that’s the only way to express your love.” Yet, ultimately, for how deep this goes now Ichinose admittedly might not be the best person. He has enough going on at the moment. He could find Hanzawa, but Hanzawa’s advice may be more practical than what he needs right now.
A sigh escapes Hirano, and he thinks about it for a minute that feels longer than it should. He knows Kagiura, knows he’s probably looking for him at this very second. Or maybe he’s waiting for him in the dorm room, entrusting Hirano to return when he’s ready. The thought brings a warmth that spreads through his chest, before the sense of security quickly twists into something increasingly similar to being dropped into icy waters with a life jacket near, only for the waves to crash and send it flying just as his fingers could meet the yellow material. Hirano had run off, and even though Kagiura might be upbeat he knows him well enough to be aware that flinching away from his touch like that left him at least a little insecure.
He hadn’t meant to let his repulsion show, but now he had. And it was hanging in the air, however far apart they were.
Hirano’s train of thought is interrupted as the door to the student council room suddenly slides open, a passerby that’d noticed his troubled posture stopping in. “Hirano, what are you doing here?”
Hirano doesn’t say anything just yet, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back down at the floor. He takes a pause, his tone slightly awkward as he tries to keep it a standoffish steadiness, “Ah.. Miyano, that’s–”
He trails off. As much as he’d rather avoid the younger’s personal interest in that aspect of his love life, not to mention the thought of seeking advice from his junior is also a matter of pride, he might actually be the only one that comes to mind. After all, he supposes Miyano would understand the overwhelm of the ‘taboo’ better than most. Even if he was shameless about it, he’s always been well-intentioned.
Hirano glances at his junior, voice serious “Listen, this is a hypothetical question. Alright?”
Miyano nods, responding “Oh, sure.”
The shorter boy doesn’t look like he believes him, an air of personal interest betraying his relaxed expression, but Hirano doesn’t have the energy to press the matter. Especially when Kagiura might be getting closer as they speak. Hirano’s eyes briefly shift, his fingers clenching then relaxing before his words come out concise and tinged with uncertainty as he asks, “If.. Sasaki suddenly told you that he didn’t want you to touch him, would you.. not like it?” Hirano seems a bit embarrassed by the question, coughing slightly in the pauses between words.
Miyano doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a second Hirano is about to take it back and brush it off as a dumb question so he can tell him to forget it. But then Miyano suddenly answers, “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”
Hirano blinks, Miyano continues thoughtfully, “When it comes to something like that, isn’t it already different? Things like who initiates what, it’s not usually so rigid.” Miyano’s words linger as he adds on, “And even when it is, there are still exceptions. Even if two people hold hands in the privacy of their home, it doesn’t mean they have to while walking down the street.”
The blue in Hirano’s pupils is more visible for the briefest of moments, and he quickly glances away. Different.. not rigid. Right, things like 15 seconds a day–it’s not like it happened every day, or at the same time, or always in the same location, and sometimes Hirano initiated it and sometimes Kagiura. It’s not as though he hated every kind of touch, even if when he thought about it he didn’t like it as much when Kagiura touched him compared to when he made the first move. Not all of them repulsed him, some he just felt nothing at all.
A soft breath leaves Miyano, like the inkling of a laugh. His tone is more lighthearted than before, “In the end, if both people aren’t happy it’s kind of pointless anyway, don’t you think?”
Hirano’s lips part, a realization dawning on his face. The floor squeaks as he leaves the room, this time fleeing with more purpose than when he’d left the dorms. The black-haired boy hums, already getting out his phone to pull up his boyfriend’s contact.
As Hirano walks back in the direction of the dorms, Miyano’s words replay in the forefront of his mind. He’d been so focused on what wasn’t that he hadn’t really stopped to consider what could be, or what already is. For every morning Kagiura doesn’t keep an alarm, Hirano is there to wake him. For every uncertainty Hirano has, Kagiura is there to remind him that some things remain steady. The weightlessness of a shared laugh, the ease of a caring word after a hard-working day, the gentle tease after a lost game and a lighthearted pout.
Haven’t he and Kagiura already been complimenting one another’s shared differences? Isn’t that why they’ve worked so well as roommates in the first place? Hirano had forgotten somehow. When Ichinose had asked if he and Kagiura were dating, Hirano had answered ‘not yet’. This whole time he’s been holding back, teetering on the edge of what he doesn’t have and what Kagiura already knows is there.
“Hirano?”
Hirano comes to a stop, his fingers quivering for a tense moment at his hip. All at once he’s winded, his eyes wide at Kagiura standing an arm’s length away from him. The brunet’s chest rises and falls with a steady pant that matches the blond’s own, one palm resting on his right knee as he catches his breath. Kagiura’s been searching for him, he knows it. Hirano makes a sound, an intake of a gasp that comes out startled “Guh–”
Kagiura steps forward and suddenly he’s right in front of him, his finger’s reaching for his wrist. Yet just as they begin to vaguely brush Hirano’s skin, Kagiura’s hand pulls back. His brows are knitted, his lips parting briefly before becoming pursed. The pensiveness is new, and somehow Hirano finds himself reassured with it. The absence of certainty is familiar, and maybe it’s exactly what he’s been waiting for.
Hirano’s eyes shut before opening, meeting the deep brown of Kagiura’s own with a calmer steadfast look. “Kagiura” he suddenly calls, his voice lacking any hesitancy. Kagiura blinks, suddenly snapped from his thoughts. It seems like he might speak, yet something in Hirano’s resoluteness gives him pause. Hirano’s step feels weighted as he lifts his shoe, his face right before Kagiura’s widened gaze. They’re near enough they could kiss, if Kagiura brought his face even a few centimeters closer. But Kagiura remains still, his ears rosy.
It’s a test. Though it’s ultimately a lighthearted gesture more than anything, Hirano already knows Kagiura is going to pass it.
The echo of the sidewalk gives a slight click as Hirano steps back, something in his eyes softening. The blond’s words are gentler now, the corners of his lips playing with the curve of his cheeks.“You know, I really like how your eyes always meet mine when you’ve scored a point.”
Kagiura blinks, Hirano continues speaking. “I like waking you in the mornings, I think it’d be a real nuisance if I couldn’t anymore. I like being your roommate, laughing with you. Even though it’s annoying, the others are probably right when they say I’m softer on you. When I think about it, the things that irritate me don’t feel like an issue when it’s you. I probably even look forward to it.”
The taller’s ears are red now, his expression lifted from disbelief and settled into a shy hopefulness. Kagiura’s throat bobs “Hirano-”
Hirano steps forward again, not directly in front of Kagiura. Close enough that Hirano has to bend his neck slightly up to continue meeting his eyes. Hirano speaks again, his voice firm, “I like all these things about you, yet I haven’t been honest. Not at all, with you or myself.”
This time when the thought occurs to him that something must be wrong with him, there’s another thought with it. Even if something is wrong with him, it’s okay. That everything Hirano has indulged up to this point, isn’t diminished just because that difference exists.
His eyes break from Kagiura’s.
“I probably can’t give you everything you want. When you touch me, sometimes I feel disgusted by it.” Hirano’s tone is even. He continues speaking, knowing how it might come across if he lets the words set for too long. “But sometimes I don’t mind it, and sometimes I’m fine with it since it feels nice for you.” Still, he thinks, I definitely prefer being the one who reaches out.
Hirano is about to continue speaking, to ramble all the things he’s kept inside all this time until they can escape with ease. Until some deeper part of him can finally catch up with all these thoughts that have left him wondering what could be so different about him that he hasn’t quite grasped. Kagiura’s palm hovers in front of his lips, halting his words. There’s a gap between his hand and Hirano’s mouth, but the warmth is still there. His roommate speaks again, more firmly now despite the wisp of a smile at the corners of his mouth, “Hirano, I’ve already told you how I feel.”
It hits him, but not harshly. It’s more similar to the gentle sway of a fan that reminds you it’s still hot after it passes your face for a few cooler seconds.
Leaves fallen from a nearby tree lift with a sudden breeze, swirling in a quick mesh of pale yellows. Hirano doesn’t step closer, doesn’t reach out. In that moment he simply looks Kagiura in the eyes. An intake of breath fills his lungs. And as the leaves finish settling nearby on the ground, the words that have been in front of him all this time finally flow free, “I like you, Kagi.”
Kagiura’s smile remains unchanged, and all he says in turn is, “That’s more than enough for me.”
★ ★ ★
(Bonus)
They say that the absence of something isn’t as impactful as the presence of pain. That having never experienced something isn’t the same as having it right in front of you and watching it be ripped away.
To insinuate absence is the same as nothingness is to point at a bowling ball when there are no basketballs around and tell someone to shoot hoops with it. It might fit through the net, but that’s only if you can use enough force to get it up in the air and across the court in the first place. And why would you? You’d exhaust all your energy, only to do more damage to the floor or yourself than if you hadn’t tried to pretend the bowling ball could be a suitable replacement to begin with.
Hirano feels like he’s being made to juggle a lot of bowling balls lately. Everywhere he looks, couples are cozying up to one another. As though the closer it gets to Valentine’s Day, the less self-control they can muster around each other. He’d even caught Miyano and Sasaki kissing in the club room the other day, leaving it for the time being only to save his own sanity. Though he did give a rather mortified Miyano a lecture about being more careful later when the other disciplinary committee members had left for the day. He tried to keep it brief to save them both the embarrassment, except he might’ve been a bit harsh about it given the personal circumstances. He’ll have to apologize to his junior later.
Kagiura seems immune to the change in the air, it almost amazes the blond. Since the two had that conversation after Hirano had accidentally slapped Kagiura when he’d kissed him, his roommate has been taking Hirano’s personal space very seriously. Too seriously, almost. It seems like they’re both still finding the balance between what’s acceptable and what might cross the line.
Hirano unlocks the room door, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. Kagiura is beaming from inside where he’s seated on the edge of his bed reading a comic. He’s looking up now that the door has opened, but his smile immediately shifts to a look of concern. The black-haired boy stands up, setting his comic aside, “Long day?”
The blond blinks, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror attached to the back of their bathroom door now. His eye is twitching, his neck slightly hunched, his eyes sharp in appearance. How he usually looks when he has to reprimand someone too many times for the same thing, even when he doesn’t exactly agree with the rules they’re breaking either. Hirano shakes his head, hoping maybe it’ll wipe the stress of the day clean from his face.
The door shuts behind him after he steps into the room, a low sigh pulling from him “It’s nothing important.”
Kagiura doesn’t look like he believes his boyfriend, but Hirano has no plans to let anything slip. After making a grand show of telling Kagiura that he liked doing the things that made him happy in a certain context, how could he explain the way he feels seeing displays of intimacy without sounding like a total hypocrite? Hey Kagiura, seeing so many couples cozying up to each other around this time of year is enough to make me want to add ‘ban PDA’ to the list of upcoming disciplinary actions. It totally doesn’t bother me when we hug though and you shouldn’t feel insecure that you want to!
Yeah, right. Not happening.
Then again, Hirano didn’t really know how he felt when he saw people being affectionate with each other either. It didn’t bother him, at least not usually. If anything, it normally just left him confused or feeling nothing at all. Rather than being a passing observer, he always sees himself as more of an alien trying to collect data on how humans are meant to interact. This time of year really does bring out the worst of his insecurities.
“Shouldn’t you be studying?” He shifts the subject onto something else, hoping Kagiura will take the bait. He does, the black-haired boy groaning while dramatically flopping back on his bed with his arms splayed out, “Hirano, I’m going to go into the military.”
The blond chucks a pillow in his roommate’s direction, affectionately chiding, “You’d have to wake up even earlier than I get you up now, idiot.”
Kagiura catches the pillow with a lighthearted chuckle, “Hmm.. waking up to an angry army sergeant dragging me by the ear out of bed, or my wonderful boyfriend dragging me by the ear out of bed? Tough call.”
Hirano chucks another pillow in his direction, Kagiura lifting his blanket over his face to block the advance. Kagiura laughs boyishly now, lowering the blanket enough to peek his eyes out, “I guess studying isn’t so bad.”
The shorter rolls his eyes, a huff of amusement slipping from his lips. “So get to it then,” The order comes out more half-hearted than he intends it to.
His roommate gives a playful grin along with a brief salute, moving to sit at the table between their two beds in the center of the room, “Sir, yes sir."
Hirano tosses another pillow, this time landing the mark.