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Girls were pretty.
Hikaru liked girls as much as the next guy, but that didn’t mean they took up all the space in his head. He, for one, had other things to think about–food, the premiere of his favorite show, practice, his friends, and plenty of other things.
There were a number of topics he liked to let his mind wander to, never lingering on any one thought for too long. But there was one girl who occupied his mind a little more often than usual.
Saitou-san was a pretty student in the class next door. Jet-black hair, god-awful bangs that were annoyingly cute, and a laugh that felt strangely familiar, like something distant he couldn’t quite place. When asked why her in particular, he usually shrugged and said she looked like Rinshan from Master+Master. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something itched and told him that wasn’t the only reason. He just didn’t know what the other reason was.
Hikaru didn’t have a type, per se. Though he wouldn’t lie when he said he might have a thing for black hair—which didn’t narrow things down much, considering most of the village had black hair. Probably most of Japan did.
Still, something about Saitou-san was alluring enough to pull him in.
Sure, it stung to see her holding hands with another guy—who, by the end of it all, became her boyfriend—but it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. A lot of the boys in class talked about how life-altering and devastating it was to watch the love of your life get swept away by another man. How heartbreaking it was, with shimmering crystal tears and all that.
Hikaru didn’t pay much attention.
After that, he didn’t really look at other girls that way for a long time. His mind was dead set on her. After all, he’d been taught from the moment he could understand words to keep the people he loved close and safe. To keep them content until the end of time.
Then again, he was still young, he concluded. There were plenty of years ahead of him.
He’d find another special someone someday.
Someone who would keep his days bright and happy. Someone who would fill his heart with the warmth he knew love was supposed to feel like.
He was still young.
He’d have another chance.
_____
He didn’t really understand the concept of gay people. It placed the way he thought about reality into an entirely new category of “things to think about.”
A conversation with Yoshiki down by the river got the gears in his head turning. Something about ho-mo-sex-you-alls—or at least that’s what he thought the term was. Correction: homosexuals. He wasn’t dense, thank you very much.
Yoshiki had brought it up after talking about how much he hated this place.
Hikaru didn’t really have a solid opinion on it. It wasn’t a new concept—he knew what being gay was—but he had never really given it much thought before then. The way Yoshiki looked at him when he didn’t give a proper answer was hard to read. Hikaru wasn’t sure what Yoshiki wanted him to say, but it seemed like he had expected something else.
Something different.
Almost hesitant.
The topic moved on pretty quickly after that. It hadn’t been what Hikaru was focused on in the first place.
Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was empathy. Or maybe it was the bitter thought of his best friend leaving for the city. Whatever the reason, he found himself offering Yoshiki the idea of visiting his house anytime he felt like leaving.
A few days later, Hikaru had laid in bed, half-heartedly thinking of things to help him fall asleep. Maybe he’d imagine a dream. Maybe he’d come up with a better plot for that dumb show his mom liked to watch.
Somewhere through that long train of thought, the memory came up.
It wasn’t really an important detail from the conversation, and yet his brain placed it firmly into the “remember this pile”. Yoshiki had looked so lost when the topic came up. So Hikaru thought it was about time he'd come up with a more structured opinion on it.
Normally, girls liked guys because they were handsome and strong, and guys liked girls because they were pretty and good at almost everything. Hikaru had never really explored the idea of people liking someone of the same gender for the qualities they already shared.
It was confusing, to say the least.
But hey—love was love. He couldn’t blame anyone for it.
The question still lingered, though.
Maybe guys liked other guys because they were pretty, the same way girls were? He had met plenty of pretty guys over the years. The kind who never built much muscle like the men he saw on TV or the guys around the village. They looked softer. Gentler than the manly ideal he had in his head.
Maybe that was it. Some kind of twisted attraction? Some kind of reverse magnet thing?? Opposite attract contradiction???
No, that couldn’t be right.
There were plenty of strong guys who were gentle too.
Like his dad.
His dad carried himself maturely and independently—capable and sturdy—while still being caring and loving toward him and his mom. Hikaru couldn’t blame anyone for admiring him.
Regardless of gender.
He was just that great.
Yoshiki’s great too, his brain supplied.
Yeah. Yoshiki was great.
He knew that deep down, beneath all that indifference and a ridiculously—probably permanent—edgy look on his face, he was a good guy. Those awful bangs did nothing much to hide the most sensitive parts of him. Hikaru felt honored to have seen that side of him.
Hey! Yoshiki was pretty too, now that he thought about it.
If you looked closely enough, and actually took the time to appreciate him, you might think so. Those tired eyes had a strange charm. If given the chance, Hikaru felt like he could sit for hours and stare into them for eternity and get completely lost.
Whenever he thought about Yoshiki, he felt something special. A feeling he only ever got with him.
Yoshiki was a tempered kid, but he loved every bit of him. That warm feeling he got when they hung out after school—Yoshiki was the only person outside his family who made him feel joy and contentment at the same time.
He loved his best friend to bits.
Eventually, Hikaru drifted through memories of the two of them together, replaying them one by one until they lulled him to sleep.
He couldn’t imagine a future without Yoshiki in it.
He hoped he never had to.
But for now, here in the present, he was happy just spending the time they had while they were still young.
Even when they were crusty old men someday, he was sure they’d still be friends.
But for now—They were still young.
And he was glad for it.
_____
He could look at the stars for hours on end. Little white specks against the empty vastness of the dark sky. They looked so bright and hopeful. It reminded him, distantly, of Yoshiki's moles.
He smiled.
His moles were so pretty. Complimenting his pale skin like decorations on something bare. His body was littered with them. Yoshiki hated them. Hikaru loved them.
If the stars and galaxies that marred the sky made up the universe. Then something, desperate, and stubborn on the back of his mind wanted to call Yoshiki the center of it.
Oh.
Oh.
His tears fell before he knew it.
Soon enough.
He begged the universe to keep his company.
_____
If he had been braver. Had given everything more thought. He might've been more than just his best friend.
He didn't know where he was right now. All he felt right now was warmth. This wasn't the warmth he thought he'd feel in the—probably—afterlife.
Maybe he was missing something of himself.
He hadn't truly died. Not really. His body still felt lived in. But it was cold and empty.
Well, not completely.
Something had heard his prayer and kept Yoshiki company.
He wasn't sure if he liked the thought of Yoshiki liking this version of him better than him.
But this version was bolder, happier, and protective over Yoshiki.
Something he never had a chance to be for him.
Everything felt bittersweet.